So  I  took  her  in  my  arms  and  kissed  her. 


VLONTEZUMA'S    DAUGHTER 

BY 

H.  EIDER  HAGGABD 

AUTHOR     OF     '  SHE  '      '  ALLAN     QUATERMAIN  '      ETC. 


Otomie,  Princess  of  the  Otomie 


LONDON 
LONGMANS,     GKEEN,     AND     CO. 

AND  NEW  YOKK  :  15  EAST  16th  STEEET 
1893 

All    rights    reserved 


LOAN  STACK 


BY   THE   SAME  AUTHOR 


CETYWAYO  AND  HIS  WHITE  NEIGHBOURS 

DAWN 

THE  WITCH'S  HEAD 

KING  SOLOMON'S  MINES 

SHE 

JESS 

ALLAN   QUATERMAIN 

MAIWA'S  REVENGE 

MR.  MEESON'S  WILL 

COLONEL  QUARITCH,  V.C. 

CLEOPATEA 

ALLAN'S  WIFE 

BEATRICE 

ERIC  BRIGHTEYES 

NADA  THE  LILY 

(IN  COLLABORATION    WITH  ANDREW  LANG) 

THE  WORLD'S  DESIRE 


PR4H31 

M/ 

DEDICATION 

My  dear  Jell, 

Strange  as  were  the  adventures  and  escapes  of  Thomas  Wing- 
field,  once  of  this  parish,  whereof  these  pages  tell,  your  oivn  can 
almost  equal  them  in  these  latter  days,  and,  since  a  fellow  feeling 
makes  us  kind,  you  at  least  they  may  move  to  a  sigh  of  sympathy. 
Among  many  a  distant  land  you  know  that  in  which  he  loved  and 
fought,  following  vengeance  and  his  fate,  and  by  your  side  I  saw 
its  relics  and  its  peoples,  its  volcans  and  its  valleys.  You  know 
even  where  lies  the  treasure  which,  three  centuries  and  more  ago, 
he  helped  to  bury,  the  countless  treasure  that  an  evil  fortune  held 
us  back  from  seeking.  Now  the  Indians  have  taken  back  their 
secret,  and  though  many  may  search,  none  will  lift  the  graven 
stone  that  seals  it,  nor  shall  the  light  of  day  shine  again  upon  the 
ff  olden  head  of  Montezuma.  So  be  it  I  The  wealth  which  Cortes 
wept  over,  and  his  Spaniards  sinned  and  died  for,  is  for  ever  hidden 
yonder  bij  the  shores  of  the  bitter  lake  whose  waters  gave  up  to 
you  that  ancient  horror,  the  veritable  and  slee2)less  god  of  Sacri- 
fice, of  whom  I  would  not  rob  you — and,  for  my  part,  I  do  not 
regret  the  loss. 

What  cannot  be  lost,  what  to  me  seem  of  more  worth  than  the 
dead  hero  Guatemoc's  gems  and  jars  of  gold,  are  the  memories  of 
true  friendship  shown  to  us  far  away  beneath  the  shadow  of  the 
Slumbering  Woman,1  and  it  is  in  gratitude  for  these  that  I  ask 
permission  to  set  your  name  within  a  book  which  were  it  not  for 
you  would  never  have  been  written. 

I  am,  my  dear  Jebb, 

Always  sincerely  yours, 

H.  EIDER  HAGGARD. 

DITCHINGHAM,  NORFOLK,  October  5,  1892, 
To  J.  Gladwyn  Jebb,  Esq. 


NOTE 

Worn  out  prematurely  by  a  life  of  hardship  and  extraordinary 
adventure,  Mr.  Jebb  passed  away  on  March  18,  1893,  taking  with  him 
the  respect  and  affection  of  all  who  had  the  honour  of  his  friendship. 
The  author  has  learned  with  pleasure  that  the  reading  of  this  tale  in 
proof  and  the  fact  of  its  dedication  to  himself  afforded  him  some  amuse- 
ment and  satisfaction  in  the  intervals  of  his  sufferings. 

H.  R.  H. 

March  22,  1893. 

1   The  volcano  Izticcihuatl  in  Mexico. 

450 


NOTE 

The  more  unpronounceable  of  the  Aztec  names  are  short 
ened  in  many  instances  out  of  consideration  for  the  patienc  ; 
of  the  reader  ;  thus  *  Popocatapetl '  becomes  '  Popo,'  '  Huitzel- 
coatl '  becomes  l  Huitzel,'  &c.  The  prayer  in  Chapter  xxv\. 
is  freely  rendered  from  Jourdanet's  French  translation  of 
Fray  Bernardino  de  Sahagun's  History  of  New  Spain,  writt&i 
shortly  after  the  conquest  of  Mexico  (Book  VI.,  chap,  v.),  t) 
which  monumental  work  and  to  Prescotfs  admirable  his  tor  / 
the  author  of  this  romance  is  much  indebted.  The  portents 
described  as  heralding  the  fall  of  the  Aztec  Empire,  and  man  / 
of  the  incidents  and  events  written  of  in  this  story,  such  as 
the  annual  personation  of  the  god  Tczcatlipoca  by  a  captiie 
distinguished  for  his  personal  beauty,  and  destined  to  sacr  - 
fice,  are  in  the  main  historical.  The  noble  speech  of  tie 
Emperor  Guatemoc  to  the  Prince  of  Tacuba  uttered  whi,e 
they  both  were  suffering  beneath  the  hands  of  the  Spaniards 
is  also  authentic. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  WHY   THOMAS   WINGFIELD    TELLS   HIS   TALE       ...         1 

II.  OF   THE    PARENTAGE    OF   THOMAS    WIXGFIELD         .                   .         7 

III.    THE    COMING   OF   THE    SPANIARD 14 

IV.    THOMAS    TELLS    HIS   LOVE 21 

V.  THOMAS    SWEARS    AN    OATH         ....                         .29 

VI.    GOOD-BYE,    SWEETHEART 39 

VII.    ANDRES    DE    FONSECA 45 

VIII.  THE    SECOND    MEETING           .......     .53 

IX.    THOMAS   BECOMES    RICH G2 

X.  THE    PASSING   OF   ISABELLA   DE    SIGUENZA   .            .            .      .      70 

XI.  THE    LOSS   OS1    THE    CARAK          .            .            .            .            .            .81 

XII.    THOMAS    COMES    TO    SHORE 88 

XIII.  THE    STONE    OF   SACRIFICE 97 

XIV.  THE    SAVING   OF    GUATEMOC 106 

XV.    THE    COURT    OF   MONTEZUMA 113 

XVI.    THOMAS    BECOMES   A   GOD 122 

XVII.    THE   ARISING   OF   PAPANTZIN 131 

XVIII.    THE    NAMING   OF   THE    BRIDES 139 

XIX.    THE    FOUR   GODDESSES 147 

xx.  OTOMIE'S  COUNSEL 155 

XXI.    THE    KISS    OF   LOVE 163 

XXII.    THE    TRIUMPH    OF    THE    CROSS 171 

XXIII.  THOMAS    IS    MARRIED          .......    178 

XXIV.  THE    NIGHT    OF    FEAR 189 

XXV.  THE    BURYING   OF   MONTEZUMA'S    TREASURE                               .    196 


vi  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

CHArTKH  PAG 

XXVI.    THE   CROWNING   OF   GUATEMOC             .            .            .  ,      .    20 

XXVII.    THE    FALL   OF   TENOCTITLAN             .            .            .  ,            .21 

XXVIII.    THOMAS   IS   DOOMED .      .    22 

XXIX.   DE    GARCIA   SPEAKS   HIS    MIND           ...  .    28' 

XXX.    THE   ESCAPE .      .    23 

XXXI.    OTOMIE    PLEADS    WITH    HER    PEOPLE         .             .  .             .24 

XXXII.    THE    END    OF    GUATEMOC    .            .            .            .             ,  .       .    25 

XXXIII.  ISABELLA   DE    SIGDENZA   IS    AVENGED       .  .26 

XXXIV.  THE    SIEGE    OF   THE    CITY    OF   PINES  .            .            .  .      .    26 '  ' 
XXXV.    THE    LAST    SACRIFICE    OF    THE    WOMEN    OF    THE  OTOMIE     27 

XXXVI.    THE    SURRENDER          . 28 

XXXVII.   VENGEANCE .  .            .   29  » 

XXXVIII.    OTOMIE 'S    FAREWELL            .             .             .            .            .  .       .    30  \ 

XXXIX.    THOMAS    COMES   BACK   FROM    THE    DEAD             .   .  .            .    31  - 

XL.    AMEN          .  o      .    32  ) 


LIST  OF  PLATES 


OTOMIE,  PRINCESS  OF  THE  OTOMiE     .        .        .     .  Vignette 

SO   I   TOOK   HER    IN    MY    ARMS    AND    KISSED    HER         .  Frontispiece 

'JUAN    DE     GARCIA    GIVES    YOU    GREETING,    THOMAS 

WINGFIELD  ' To  face  p.    20 

THERE,     GLEAMING     WHITELY     IN     THE     GATHERING 

TWILIGHT,  WAS   THE  DEAD  FACE  OF   MY  MOTHER  „  30 

THE   WINE   WAS   BROUGHT „  48 

THEN   HE   DREW,  AND  WE  FELL   TO    IT   DESPERATELY  „  58 

'  PEACE  !  '    SHE    SAID,    '  I   WILL   NOT    BE    SHRIVEN   BY 

SUCH   AS   YOU' „  74 

1  LOOK,     MY     COMRADES    ...     HE     IS     NO      SPANIARD, 

BUT   AN   ENGLISH    SPY  ' „  84 

ON   A    CHAIR    SAT    DE    GARCIA „  92 

I  SALUTED    HIM   IN    THE    INDIAN    FASHION  .  .  „  108 

NEXT    THEY   CARRIED    ME     UP    THE     WINDING    PATHS 

OF    THE    MIGHTY    TEOCALLI „  124 

PRESENTLY    SHE    LIFTED    HER  HEAD,  AND  THE  MOON- 
LIGHT  FELL   FULL   UPON   HER   FACE  ...  „  138 

I 1  WILL    READ    YOU    THE    WORDS,    OTOMIE  '  .  .      .  „  146 

IN     FRONT,     CLAD     IN    RICH    ARMOUR,     RODE     THEIR 

LEADER    CORTES „  148 

ONE    BY    ONE     THEY    DREW     NEAR    TO     ME,     SMILING 

AND    SIGHING     .  152 


viii  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

A   YARD    OF    STEEL   FLASHED    ACROSS     ME,    AND    LOST 
ITSELF    IN     THE     BREAST     OF    THE     MURDERER 

PRIEST To  face  p.  174 

*  AT    LENGTH,    DE    GARCIA  !  '     I    CRIED    IN    SPANISH     .  „  194 

WE    PADDLED    FOR     TWO    HOURS     OR    MORE     ACROSS 

THE    LAKE „  198 

'  YOU   LIE,   MURDERER  !  ' „  230 

SHE    DREW   ME   ACROSS    THE    SILL      .  ...  .  „  242 

*  AM    I   AMONG   MY    OWN    PEOPLE    OF    THE    OTOMIE  ?  '  „  250 
HE    RAISED    HIS   VISOR   AND    BEGAN    TO    SPEAK  .            .  „  270 

HE   NEVER   LOOKED    BEHIND    HIM;     HE    KNEW   WHAT 

WAS  THERE — DEATH  IN  THE  SHAPE   OF   A  MAN  !  „  298 

HE  FOUGHT,  AND  DESPERATELY,  THRUSTING  AT    THE 

EMPTY   AIR „  302 

'  WHEN  YOU   WILL,  THOMAS,'    SHE   ANSWERED,   PLAC- 
ING  HER   HAND   IN   MINE    .  324 


Nlor\tezurrva's    Daughter 


CHAPTEE  I 

WHY    THOMAS   WINGFIELD    TELLS   HIS   TALE 

Now  glory  be  to  God  who  has  given  us  the  victory  !  It  is 
true,  the  strength  of  Spain  is  shattered,  her  ships  are  sunk  or 
fled,  the  sea  has  swallowed  her  soldiers  and  her  sailors  by 
hundreds  and  by  thousands,  and  England  breathes  again. 
They  came  to  conquer,  to  bring  us  to  the  torture  and  the 
stake — to  do  to  us  free  Englishmen  as  Cortes  did  by  the 
Indians  of  Anahuac.  Our  manhood  to  the  slave  bench,  our 
daughters  to  dishonour,  our  souls  to  the  loving-kindness  of 
the  priest,  our  wealth  to  the  Emperor  and  the  Pope !  God 
has  answered  them  with  his  winds,  Drake  has  answered  them 
with  his  guns.  They  are  gone,  and  with  them  the  glory  of 
Spain. 

I,  Thomas  Wingfield,  heard  the  news  to-day  on  this  very 
Thursday  in  the  Bungay  market-place,  whither  I  went  to 
gossip  and  to  sell  the  apples  which  these  dreadful  gales  have 
left  me,  as  they  hang  upon  my  trees. 

Before  there  had  been  rumours  of  this  and  of  that,  but 
here  in  Bungay  was  a  man  named  Young,  of  the  Youngs  of 
Yarmouth,  who  had  served  in  one  of  the  Yarmouth  ships  in 
the  fight  at  Gravelines,  aye  and  sailed  north  after  the  Spaniards 
till  they  were  lost  in  the  Scottish  seas. 

Little  things  lead  to  great,  men  say,  but  here  great  things 
lead  to  little,  for  because  of  these  tidings  it  comes  about  that 
I,  Thomas  Wingfield,  of  the  Lodge  and  the  parish  of  Ditch- 
ingham  in  the  county  of  Norfolk,  being  now  of  a  great  age 
and  having  only  a  short  time  to  live,  turn  to  pen  and  ink. 
Ten  years  ago,  namely,  in  the  year  1578,  it  pleased  her 
Majesty,  our  gracious  Queen  Elizabeth,  who  at  that  date 


2  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

visited  this  county,  that  I  should  be  brought  before  her  ? 
Norwich.     There  and  then,  saying  that  the  fame  of  it  ha 
reached  her,  she  commanded  me  to  give  her  some  particular 
of  the  story  of  my  life,  or  rather  of  those  twenty  years,  moi 
or  less,  which  I  spent  among  the  Indians  at  that  time  whe 
Cortes  conquered  their  country  of  Anahuac,  which  is  no1 
known   as    Mexico.     But   almost   before  I  could  begin  m 
tale,  it  was  time  for  her  to  start  for  Cossey  to  hunt  the  dee:  , 
and  she  said  it  was  her  wish  that  I  should  write  the  stor 
down  that  she  might  read  it,  and  moreover  that  if  it  wei 
but  half  as  wonderful  as  it  promised  to  be,  I  should  end  in  / 
days   as   Sir   Thomas   Wingfield.     To  this  I   answered  he  c 
Majesty  that  pen  and  ink  were  tools  I  had  no  skill  in,  yet 
would  bear  her  command  in  mind.    Then  I  made  bold  to  gi\ 
her  a  great  emerald  that  once  had  hung  upon  the  breast  ( f 
Montezuma's  daughter,  and  of  many  a  princess  before  her,  an  1 
at  the  sight  of  it  her  eyes  glistened  brightly  as  the  gem,  ft  r 
this  Queen  of  ours  loves  such  costly  playthings.     Indeed,  ha  I 
I  so  desired,  I  think  that  I  might  then  and  there  have  struc  k 
a  bargain,  and  set  the  stone  against  a  title ;  but  I,  who  f(  r 
many  years  had  been  the  prince  of  a  great  tribe,  had  ro 
wish   to  be  a  knight.     So  I  kissed  the  royal  hand,  and  so 
tightly  did  it  grip  the  gem  within  that  the  knuckle  join  s 
shone  white,  and  I  went  my  ways,  coming  back  home  to  th  s 
my  house  by  the  Waveney  on  that  same  day. 

Now  the  Queen's  wish  that  I  should  set  down  the  story  of 
my  life  remained  in  my  mind,  and  for  long  I  have  desired  1  o 
do  it  before  life  and  story  end  together.  The  labour,  indeed, 
is  great  to  one  unused  to  such  tasks  ;  but  why  should  I  fe 
labour  who  am  so  near  to  the  holiday  of  death  ?  I  have 
seen  things  that  no  other  Englishman  has  seen,  which  a:-e 
worthy  to  be  recorded  ;  my  life  has  been  most  strange,  many  a 
time  it  has  pleased  God  to  preserve  it  when  all  seemed  lost, 
and  this  perchance  He  has  done  that  the  lesson  of  it  might 
become  known  to  others.  For  there  is  a  lesson  in  it  and  :n 
the  things  that  I  have  seen,  and  it  is  that  no  wrong  can  ever 
bring  about  a  right,  that  wrong  will  breed  wrong  at  last,  and 
be  it  in  man  or  people,  will  fall  upon  the  brain  that  thought  it 
and  the  hand  that  wrought  it. 

Look  now  at  the  fate  of  Cortes — that  great  man  whom  I 
have  known  clothed  with  power  like  a  god.  Nearly  forty] 
years  ago,  so  I  have  heard,  he  died  poor  and  disgraced  in 
Spain  ;  he,  the  conqueror — yes,  and  I  have  learned  also  that 
his  son  Don  Martin  has  been  put  to  the  torture  in  that  city 


WHY  THOMAS    WINGFIELD   TELLS  HIS   TALE    3 

which  the  father  won  with  so  great  cruelties  for  Spain. 
Malinche,  she  whom  the  Spaniards  named  Marina,  the  chief 
and  best  beloved  of  all  the  women  of  this  same  Cortes,  fore- 
told it  to  him  in  her  anguish  when  after  all  that  had  been, 
after  she  had  so  many  times  preserved  him  and  his  soldiers  to 
look  upon  the  sun,  at  the  last  he  deserted  her,  giving  her  in 
marriage  to  Don  Juan  Xaramillo.  Look  again  at  the  fate  of 
Marina  herself.  Because  she  loved  this  man  Cortes,  or 
Malinche,  as  the  Indians  named  him  after  her,  she  brought 
evil  on  her  native  land ;  for  without  her  aid  Tenoctitlan,  or 
Mexico,  as  they  call  it  now,  had  never  bowed  beneath  the 
yoke  of  Spain — yes,  she  forgot  her  honour  in  her  passion. 
And  what  was  her  reward,  what  right  came  to  her  of  her 
wrongdoing  ?  This  was  her  reward  at  last :  to  be  given  away 
in  marriage  to  another  and  a  lesser  man  when  her  beauty 
waned,  as  a  worn-out  beast  is  sold  to  a  poorer  master. 

Consider  also  the  fate  of  those  great  peoples  of  the  land 
of  Anahuac.  They  did  evil  that  good  might  come.  They 
sacrificed  the  lives  of  thousands  to  their  false  gods,  that  their 
wealth  might  increase,  and  peace  and  prosperity  be  theirs 
throughout  the  generations.  And  now  the  true  God  has  an- 
swered them.  For  wealth  He  has  given  them  desolation,  for 
peace  the  sword  of  the  Spaniard,  for  prosperity  the  rack  and 
the  torment  and  the  day  of  slavery.  For  this  it  was  that 
they  did  sacrifice,  offering  their  own  children  on  the  altars  of 
Huitzel  and  of  Tezcat. 

And  the  Spaniards  themselves,  who  in  the  name  of  mercy 
have  wrought  cruelties  greater  than  any  that  were  done 
by  the  benighted  Aztecs,  who  in  the  name  of  Christ  daily 
violate  His  law  to  the  uttermost  extreme,  say  shall  they 
prosper,  shall  their  evil-doing  bring  them  welfare  ?  I  am  old 
and  cannot  live  to  see  the  question  answered,  though  even 
now  it  is  in  the  way  of  answering.  Yet  I  know  that  their 
wickedness  shall  fall  upon  their  own  heads,  and  I  seem  to  see 
them,  the  proudest  of  the  peoples  of  the  earth,  bereft  of  fame 
and  wealth  and  honour,  a  starveling  remnant  happy  in 
nothing  save  their  past.  What  Drake  began  at  Gravelines 
God  will  finish  in  many  another  place  and  time,  till  at  last 
Spain  is  of  no  more  account  and  lies  as  low  as  the  empire  of 
Montezuma  lies  to-day. 

Thus  it  is  in  these  great  instances  of  which  all  the  world 
may  know,  and  thus  it  is  even  in  the  life  of  so  humble  a  man 
as  1,  Thomas  Wingfield.  Heaven  indeed  has  been  merciful  to 
me,  giving  rue  time  to  repent  my  sins ;  yet  my  sins  have  been 


4  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

visited  on  my  head,  on  me  who  took  His  prerogative  of  venge- 
ance from  the  hand  of  the  Most  High.  It  is  just,  and  because 
it  is  so  I  wish  to  set  out  the  matter  of  my  life's  history  thai 
others  may  learn  from  it.  For  many  years  this  has  been  in 
my  mind,  as  I  have  said,  though  to  speak  truth  it  was  hei 
Majesty  the  Queen  who  first  set  the  seed.  But  only  on  this 
day,  when  I  have  heard  for  certain  of  the  fate  of  the  Armada 
does  it  begin  to  grow,  and  who  can  say  if  ever  it  will  come  tc 
flower  ?  For  this  tidings  has  stirred  me  strangely,  bringing 
back  my  youth  and  the  deeds  of  love  and  war  and  wild  adven 
ture  which  I  have  been  mingled  in,  fighting  for  my  own  hanc 
and  for  Guatemoc  and  the  people  of  the  Otomie  against  thes< 
same  Spaniards,  as  they  have  not  been  brought  back  for  man^ 
years.  Indeed,  it  seems  to  me,  and  this  is  no  rare  thing  wit 
the  aged,  as  though  there  in  the  far  past  my  true  life  lay,  an 
all  the  rest  were  nothing  but  a  dream. 

From  the  window  of  the  room  wherein  I  write  I  can  se 
the  peaceful  valley  of  the  Waveney.  Beyond  its  stream  ar 
the  common  lands  golden  with  gorse,  the  ruined  castle,  an 
the  red  roofs  of  Bungay  town  gathered  about  the  tower  o 
St.  Mary's  Church.  Yonder  far  away  are  the  king's  foresl 
of  Stowe  and  the  fields  of  Flixton  Abbey ;  to  the  right  th 
steep  bank  is  green  with  the  Earsham  oaks,  to  the  left  th 
fat  marsh  lands  spotted  with  cattle  stretch  on  to  Beccles  am 
Lowestoft,  while  behind  me  my  gardens  and  orchards  rise  i 
terraces  up  the  turfy  hill  that  in  old  days  was  known  as  th 
Earl's  Vineyard.  All  these  are  about  me,  and  yet  in  this  hou 
they  are  as  though  they  were  not.  For  the  valley  of  th 
Waveney  I  see  the  vale  of  Tenoctitlan,  for  the  slopes  of  Stow 
the  snowy  shapes  of  the  volcanoes  Popo  and  Iztac,  for  th 
spire  of  Earsharn  and  the  towers  of  Ditchingham,  of  Bunga} 
and  of  Beccles,  the  soaring  pyramids  of  sacrifice  gleamin 
with  the  sacred  fires,  and  for  the  cattle  in  the  meadows  th 
horsemen  of  Cortes  sweeping  to  war. 

It  comes  back  to  me ;  that  was  life,  the  rest  is  but 
dream.  Once  more  1  feel  young,  and,  should  I  be  spared  s 
long,  I  will  set  down  the  story  of  my  youth  before  I  am  lai 
in  yonder  churchyard  and  lost  in  the  world  of  dreams.  Lon 
ago  I  had  begun  it,  but  it  was  only  on  last  Christmas  Day  tha 
my  dear  wife  died,  and  while  she  lived  I  knew  that  this  tas 
was  better  left  undone.  Indeed,  to  be  frank,  it  was  thus  wit 
my  wife.  She  loved  me,  I  believe,  as  few  men  have  the 
tune  to  be  loved,  and  there  is  much  in  my  past  that  jarrec 
upon  this  love  of  hers,  moving  her  to  a  jealousy  of  the  detu 


WHY  THOMAS    WI^7GFIELD    TELLS  HIS    7 ALE    5 

that  was  not  the  less  deep  because  it  was  so  gentle  and  so 
closely  coupled  with  forgiveness.  For  she  had  a  secret  sorrov/ 
that  ate  her  heart  away,  although  she  never  spoke  of  it.  But 
one  child  was  born  to  us,  and  this  child  died  in  infancy,  nor 
for  all  her  prayers  did  it  please  God  to  give  her  another,  and 
indeed  remembering  the  words  of  Otomie  I  did  not  expect  that 
it  would  be  so.  Now  she  knew  well  that  yonder  across  the 
seas  I  had  children  whom  I  loved  by  another  wife,  and 
though  they  were  long  dead,  must  always  love  unalterably,  and 
this  thought  wrung  her  heart.  That  I  had  been  the  husband 
of  another  woman  she  could  forgive,  but  that  this  woman 
should  have  borne  me  children  whose  memory  was  still  so  dear, 
she  could  not  forget  if  she  forgave  it,  she  who  was  childless. 
Why  it  was  so,  being  but  a  man,  I  cannot  say ;  for  who  can  know 
all  the  mystery  of  a  loving  woman's  heart  ?  But  so  it  was.  Once, 
indeed,  we  quarrelled  on  the  matter ;  it  was  our  only  quarrel. 

It  chanced  that  when  we  had  been  married  but  two  years, 
and  our  babe  was  some  few  days  buried  in  the  churchyard  of 
this  parish  of  Ditchingham,  I  dreamed  a  very  vivid  dream  as 
I  slept  one  night  at  my  wife's  side.  I  dreamed  that  my  dead 
children,  the  four  of  them,  for  the  tallest  lad  bore  in  his  arms 
my  firstborn,  that  infant  who  died  in  the  great  siege,  came  to 
me  as  they  had  often  come  when  I  ruled  the  people  of  the 
Otomie  in  the  City  of  Pines,  and  talked  with  me,  giving  me 
flowers  and  kissing  my  hands.  I  looked  upon  their  strength 
and  beauty,  and  was  proud  at  heart,  and,  in  my  dream,  it 
seemed  as  though  some  great  sorrow  had  been  lifted  from  my 
mind ;  as  though  these  dear  ones  had  been  lost  and  now  were 
found  again.  Ah  !  what  misery  is  there  like  to  this  misery  of 
dreams,  that  can  thus  give  us  back  our  dead  in  mockery,  and 
then  departing,  leave  us  with  a  keener  woe  ? 

Well,  I  dreamed  on,  talking  with  my  children  in  my  sleep 
and  naming  them  by  their  beloved  names,  till  at  length  I  woke 
to  look  on  emptiness,  and  knowing  all  my  sorrow  I  sobbed 
aloud.  Now  it  was  early  morning,  and  the  light  of  the  August 
sun  streamed  through  the  window,  but  I,  deeming  that  my 
wife  slept,  still  lay  in  the  shadow  of  my  dream  as  it  were, 
and  groaned,  murmuring  the  names  of  those  whom  I  might 
never  see  again.  It  chanced,  however,  that  she  was  awake, 
and  had  overheard  those  words  which  I  spoke  with  the  dead, 
while  I  was  yet  asleep  and  after  ;  and  though  some  of  this  talk 
was  in  the  tongue  of  the  Otomie,  the  most  was  English,  and 
knowing  the  names  of  my  children  she  guessed  the  purport 
of  it  all.  {Suddenly  she  sprang  from  the  bed  and  stood  over 


6  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

me,  and  there  was  such  anger  in  her  eyes  as  I  had  never  seen 
before  nor  have  seen  since,  nor  did  it  last  long  then,  for 
presently  indeed  it  was  quenched  in  tears. 

'What  is  it,  wife  ?  '  I  asked  astonished. 

'It  is  hard,'  she  answered,  '  that  I  must  bear  to  listen  to 
such  talk  from  your  lips,  husband.  Was  it  not  enough  that, 
when  all  men  thought  you  dead,  I  wore  my  youth  away  faith- 
ful to  your  memory  ?  though  how  faithful  you  were  to  mine 
you  know  best.  Did  I  ever  reproach  you  because  you  had 
forgotten  me,  and  wedded  a  savage  woman  in  a  distant  land  ?  ' 

*  Never,  dear  wife,  nor  had  I  forgotten  you  as  you  know 
well;  but  what  I  wonder  at  is  that  you  should  grow  jealous 
now  when  all  cause  is  done  with.' 

'  Cannot  we  be  jealous  of  the  dead  ?  With  the  living  we 
may  cope,  but  who  can  fight  against  the  love  which  death  has 
completed,  sealing  it  for  ever  and  making  it  immortal !  Still, 
that  I  forgive  you,  for  against  this  woman  I  can  hold  my  own, 
seeing  that  you  were  mine  before  you  became  hers,  and  are 
mine  after  it.  But  with  the  children  it  is  otherwise.  They 
are  hers  and  yours  alone.  I  have  no  part  nor  lot  in  them,  and 
whether  they  be  dead  or  living  I  know  well  you  love  them 
always,  and  will  love  them  beyond  the  grave  if  you  may  find 
them  there.  Already  I  grow  old,  who  waited  twenty  years  and 
more  before  I  was  your  wife,  and  I  shall  give  you  no  other 
children.  One  I  gave  you,  and  God  took  it  back  lest  I  should 
be  too  happy  ;  yet  its  name  was  not  on  your  lips  with  those 
strange  names.  My  dead  babe  is  little  to  you,  husband  !  ' 

Here  she  choked,  bursting  into  tears ;  nor  did  I  think  it 
well  to  answer  her  that  there  was  this  difference  in  the  matter, 
that  whereas,  with  the  exception  of  one  infant,  those  sons 
whom  I  had  lost  were  almost  adolescent,  the  babe  she  bore 
lived  but  sixty  days. 

Now  when  the  Queen  first  put  it  in  my  mind  to  write  down 
the  history  of  my  life,  I  remembered  this  outbreak  of  my 
beloved  wife  ;  and  seeing  that  I  could  write  no  true  tale  and 
leave  out  of  it  the  story  of  her  who  was  also  my  wife, 
Montezuma's  daughter,  Otomie,  Princess  of  the  Otomie,  and 
of  the  children  that  she  gave  me,  I  let  the  matter  lie.  For  I 
knew  well,  that  though  we  spoke  very  rarely  on  the  subject 
during  all  the  many  years  we  passed  together,  still  it  was 
always  in  Lily's  mind  ;  nor  did  her  jealousy,  being  of  the  finer 
sort,  abate  at  all  with  age,  but  rather  gathered  with  the 
gathering  days.  That  I  should  execute  the  task  without  the 
knowledge  of  my  wife  would  not  have  been  possible,  for  till 


WHY   THOMAS    WINGFIELD   TELLS  HIS   TALE    7 

the  very  last  she  watched  over  my  every  act,  and,  as  I  verily 
believe,  divined  the  most  of  my  thoughts. 

And  so  we  grew  old  together,  peacefully,  and  side  by  side, 
speaking  seldom  of  that  great  gap  in  my  life  when  we  were 
lost  to  each  other  and  of  all  that  then  befell.  At  length  the 
end  came.  My  wife  died  suddenly  in  her  sleep  in  the  eighty- 
seventh  year  of  her  age.  I  buried  her  on  the  south  side  of 
the  church  here,  with  sorrow  indeed,  but  not  with  sorrow 
inconsolable,  for  I  know  that  I  must  soon  rejoin  her,  and 
those  others  whom  I  have  loved. 

There  in  that  wide  heaven  are  my  mother  and  my  sister 
and  my  sons ;  there  are  great  Guatemoc  my  friend,  last  of 
the  emperors,  and  many  other  companions  in  war  who  have 
preceded  me  to  peace ;  there,  too,  though  she  doubted  of  it,  is 
Otomie  the  beautiful  and  proud.  In  the  heaven  which  I 
trust  to  reach,  all  the  sins  of  my  youth  and  the  errors  of  my  age 
notwithstanding,  it  is  told  us  there  is  no  marrying  and  giving 
in  marriage ;  and  this  is  well,  for  I  do  not  know  how  my 
wives,  Montezuma's  daughter  and  the  sweet  English  gentle- 
woman, would  agree  together  were  it  otherwise. 

And  now  to  my  task. 


CHAPTER  II 

OF   THE    PARENTAGE    OF   THOMAS   WINGFIELD 

I,  THOMAS  WINGFIELD,  was  born  here  at  Ditchingham,  and  in 
this  very  room  where  I  write  to-day.  The  house  of  my  birth 
was  built  or  added  to  early  in  the  reign  of  the  seventh  Henry, 
but  long  before  his  time  some  kind  of  tenement  stood  here, 
which  was  lived  in  by  the  keeper  of  the  vineyards,  and  known  as 
Gardener's  Lodge.  Whether  it  chanced  that  the  climate  was 
more  kindly  in  old  times,  or  the  skill  of  those  who  tended  the 
fields  was  greater,  I  do  not  know,  but  this  at  the  least  is  true, 
that  the  hillside  beneath  which  the  house  nestles,  and  which 
once  was  the  bank  of  an  arm  of  the  sea  or  of  a  great  broad, 
was  a  vineyard  in  Earl  Bigod's  days.  Long  since  it  has  ceased 
to  grow  grapes,  though  the  name  of  the  '  Earl's  Vineyard  '  still 
clings  to  all  that  slope  of  land  which  lies  between  this  house  and 
a  certain  health-giving  spring  that  bubbles  from  the  bank  the 
half  of  a  mile  away,  in  the  waters  of  which  sick  folks  come  to 


8  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

bathe  even  from  Norwich  and  Lowestoft.  But  sheltered  as  i 
is  from  the  east  winds,  to  this  hour  the  place  has  the  advan 
tage  that  gardens  planted  here  are  earlier  by  fourteen  day 
than  any  others  in  the  country  side,  and  that  a  man  may  si 
in  them  coatless  in  the  bitter  month  of  May,  when  on  the  to 
of  the  hill,  not  two  hundred  paces  hence,  he  must  shiver  in  ; 
jacket  of  otterskins. 

The  Lodge,  for  so  it  has  always  been  named,  in  its  begin 
nings  having  been  but  a  farmhouse,  faces  to  the  south-west 
and  is  built  so  low  that  it  might  well  be  thought  that  the  danr 
from  the  river  Waveney,  which  runs  through  the  marshes  clos 
by,  would  rise  in  it.  But  this  is  not  so,  for  though  in  autnmi 
the  roke,  as  here  in  Norfolk  we  name  ground  fog,  hangs  abou 
the  house  at  nightfall,  and  in  seasons  of  great  flood  the  wate  • 
has  been  known  to  pour  into  the  stables  at  the  back  of  it,  ye 
being  built  on  sand  and  gravel  there  is  no  healthier  habitation  ii 
the  parish.  For  the  rest  the  building  is  of  stud -work  and  re< 
brick,  quaint  and  mellow  looking,  with  many  corners  and  gable  ; 
that  in  summer  are  half  hidden  in  roses  and  other  creeping 
plants,  and  with  its  outlook  on  the  marshes  and  the  commoi 
where  the  lights  vary  continually  with  the  seasons  and  evei 
with  the  hours  of  the  day,  on  the  red  roofs  of  Bungay  town 
and  on  the  wooded  bank  that  stretches  round  the  Earsban 
lands ;  though  there  are  many  larger,  to  my  mind  there  is  non< 
pleasanter  in  these  parts.  Here  in  this  house  I  was  born,  anc 
here  doubtless  I  shall  die,  and  having  spoken  of  it  at  som< 
length,  as  we  are  wont  to  do  of  spots  which  long  custom  ha; 
endeared  to  us,  I  will  go  on  to  tell  of  my  parentage. 

First,  then,  I  would  set  out  with  a  certain  pride — for  who  o  ' 
us  does  not  love  an  ancient  name  when  we  happen  to  be  borr 
to  it  ? — that  I  am  sprung  from  the  family  of  the  Wingfields 
of  Wingfield  Castle  in  Suffolk,  that  lies  some  two  hours  or 
horseback  from  this  place.  Long  ago  the  heiress  of  the 
Wingfields  married  a  De  la  Pole,  a  family  famous  in  our 
history,  the  last  of  whom,  Edmund,  Earl  of  Suffolk,  lost  his; 
head  for  treason  when  I  was  young,  and  the  castle  passed  to 
the  De  la  Poles  with  her.  But  some  offshoots  of  the  olc 
Wingfield  stock  lingered  in  the  neighbourhood,  perchance 
there  was  a  bar  sinister  on  their  coat  of  arms,  I  know  not  and 
do  not  care  to  know ;  at  the  least  my  fathers  and  I  are  of  this 
blood.  My  grandfather  was  a  shrewd  man,  more  of  a  yeoman 
than  a  squire,  though  his  birth  was  gentle.  He  it  was  whc 
bought  this  place  with  the  lands  round  it,  and  gathered  up 
some  fortune,  mostly  by  careful  marrying  and  living,  for  though 


THE  PARENTAGE   OF  THOMAS    WING  FIELD     9 

he  had  but  one  son  he  was  twice  married,  and  also  by  trading 
in  cattle. 

Now  my  grandfather  was  godly-minded  even  to  super- 
stition, and  strange  as  it  may  seem,  having  only  one  son,  no- 
thing would  satisfy  him  but  that  the  boy  should  be  made  a 
priest.  But  my  father  had  littte  leaning  towards  the  priest- 
hood and  life  in  a  monastery,  though  at  all  seasons  my  grand- 
father strove  to  reason  it  into  him,  sometimes  with  words 
and  examples,  at  others  with  his  thick  cudgel  of  holly,  that 
still  hangs  over  the  ingle  in  the  smaller  sitting-rcom.  The 
end  of  it  was  that  the  lad  was  sent  to  the  priory  here  in 
Bungay,  where  his  conduct  was  of  such  nature  that  within  a 
year  the  prior  prayed  his  parents  to  take  him  back  and  set 
him  in  some  way  of  secular  life.  Not  only,  so  said  the  prior, 
did  my  father  cause  scandal  by  his  actions,  breaking  out  of 
the  priory  at  night  and  visiting  drinking  houses  and  other 
places  ;  but,  such  was  the  sum  of  his  wickedness,  he  did  not 
scruple  to  question  and  make  mock  of  the  very  doctrines  of 
the  Church,  alleging  even  that  there  was  nothing  sacred  in  the 
image  of  UM  Virgin  Mary  which  stood  in  the  chancel,  and 
shut  its  eyes  in  prayer  before  all  the  congregation  when  the 
priest  elevated  the  Host.  '  Therefore,'  said  the  prior,  '  I  pray 
you  take  back  your  son,  and  let  him  find  some  other  road  to 
the  stake  than  that  which  runs  through  the  gates  of  Bungay 
Priory.' 

Now  at  this  story  my  grandfather  was  eo  enraged  that  he 
almost  fell  into  a  fit ;  then  recovering,  he  bethought  him  of  his 
cudgel  of  holly,  and  would  have  used  it.  But  my  father,  who 
was  now  nineteen  years  of  age  and  very  stout  and  strong, 
twisted  it  from  his  hand  and  flung  it  full  fifty  yards,  saying 
that  no  man  should  touch  him  more  were  he  a  hundred  times 
his  father.  Then  he  walked  away,  leaving  the  prior  and  my 
grandfather  staring  at  each  other. 

Now  to  shorten  a  long  tale,  the  end  of  the  matter  was  this. 
It  was  believed  both  by  my  grandfather  and  the  prior  that  the 
true  cause  of  my  father's  contumacy  was  a  passion  which  he 
had  conceived  for  a  girl  of  humble  birth,  a  miller's  fair 
daughter  who  dwelt  at  Waingford  Mills.  Perhaps  there 
was  truth  in  this  belief,  or  perhaps  there  was  none.  What 
does  it  matter,  seeing  that  the  maid  married  a  butcher  at 
Beccles  and  died  years  since  at  the  good  age  of  ninety  and 
five  ?  But  true  or  false,  my  grandfather  believed  the  tale,  and 
knowing  well  that  absence  is  the  surest  cure  for  love,  he  entered 
into  a  plan  with  the  prior  that  my  father  should  be  sent 


10  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

to  a  monastery  at  Seville  in  Spain,  of  which  the  prior's 
brother  was  abbot,  and  there  learn  to  forget  the  miller's 
daughter  and  all  other  worldly  things.  . 

When  this  was  told  to  my  father  he  fell  into  it  readily 
enough,  being  a  young  man  of  spirit  and  having  a  great  desire 
to  see  the  world,  otherwise,  however,  than  through  the 
gratings  of  a  monastery  window.  So  the  end  of  it  was  that 
he  went  to  foreign  parts  in  the  care  of  a  party  of  Spanish 
taonks,  who  had  journeyed  here  to  Norfolk  on  a  pilgrimage 
to  the  shrine  of  our  Lady  of  Walsingham. 

It  is  said  that  my  grandfather  wept  when  he  parted  with 
his  son,  feeling  that  he  should  see  him  no  more  ;  yet  so  strong 
was  his  religion,  or  rather  his  superstition,  that  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  send  him  away,  though  for  no  reason  save  that  he 
would  mortify  his  own  love  and  flesh,  offering  his  son  for  a 
sacrifice  as  Abraham  would  have  offered  Isaac.  But  though 
my  father  appeared  to  consent  to  the  sacrifice,  as  did  Isaac, 
yet  his  mind  was  not  altogether  set  on  altars  and  faggots  ;  in 
short,  as  he  himself  told  me  in  after  years,  his  plans  were 
already  laid. 

Thus  it  chanced  that  when  he  had  sailed  from  Yarmouth 
a  year  and  six  months,  there  carne  a  letter  from  the  abbot 
of  the  monastery  in  Seville  to  his  brother,  the  prior  of  St. 
Mary's  at  Bungay,  saying  that  my  father  had  fled  from 
the  monastery,  leaving  no  trace  of  where  he  had  gone. 
My  grandfather  was  grieved  at  this  tidings,  but  said  little 
about  it. 

Two  more  years  passed  away,  and  there  came  other  news, 
namely,  that  my  father  had  been  captured,  that  he  had  been 
handed  over  to  the  power  of  the  Holy  Office,  as  the  accursed 
Inquisition  was  then  named,  and  tortured  to  death  at  Seville. 
When  my  grandfather  heard  this  he  wept,  and  bemoaned 
himself  that  his  folly  in  forcing  one  into  the  Church  who  had 
no  liking  for  that  path,  had  brought  about  the  shameful  end 
of  his  only  son.  After  that  date  also  he  broke  his  friendship 
with  the  prior  of  St.  Mary's  at  Bungay,  and  ceased  his  offer- 
ings to  the  priory.  Still  he  did  not  believe  that  my  father 
was  dead  in  truth,  since  on  the  last  day  of  his  own  life,  that 
ended  two  years  later,  he  spoke  of  him  as  a  living  man,  and 
left  messages  to  him  as  to  the  management  of  the  lands  which 
now  were  his. 

And  in  the  end  it  became  clear  that  this  belief  was  not  ill- 
founded,  for  one  day  three  years  after  the  old  man's  death, 
there  landed  at  the  port  of  Yarmouth  none  other  than  my 


THE  PARENTAGE   OF  THOMAS    WING 'FIELD    11 

father,  who  had  been  absent  some  eight  years  in  all.  Nor 
did  he  come  alone,  for  with  him  he  brought  a  wife,  a  young 
and  very  lovely  lady,  who  afterwards  was  my  mother.  She 
was  a  Spaniard  of  noble  family,  having  been  born  at  Seville, 
and  her  maiden  name  wns  Donna  Luisa  de  Garcia. 

Now  of  all  that  befell  my  father  during  his  eight  years  of 
wandering  I  cannot  speak  certainly,  for  he  was  very  silent  on 
the  matter,  though  I  may  have  need  to  touch  on  some  of  his 
adventures.  But  I  know  it  is  true  that  he  fell  under  the 
power  of  the  Holy  Office,  for  once  when  as  a  little  lad  I 
bathed  with  him  in  the  Elbow  Pool,  where  the  river  Waveney 
bends  some  three  hundred  yards  above  this  house,  I  saw  that 
his  breast  and  arms  were  scored  with  long  white  scars,  and 
asked  him  what  had  caused  them.  I  remember  well  how  his 
face  changed  as  I  spoke,  from  kindliness  to  the  hue  of  blackest 
hate,  and  how  he  answered  speaking  to  himself  rather  than 
to  me. 

'  Devils,'  he  said,  '  devils  set  on  their  work  by  the  chief  of 
all  devils  that  live  upon  the  earth  and  shall  reign  in  hell. 
Hark  you,  my  son  Thomas,  there  is  a  country  called  Spain 
where  your  mother  was  born,  and  there  these  devils  abide  who 
torture  men  and  women,  aye,  and  burn  them  living  in  the 
name  of  Christ.  I  was  betrayed  into  their  hands  by  him 
whom  I  name  the  chief  of  the  devils,  though  he  is  younger 
than  I  am  by  three  years,  and  their  pincers  and  hot  irons  left 
these  marks  upon  me.  Aye,  and  they  would  have  burnt  me  alive 
also,  only  I  escaped,  thanks  to  your  mother — but  such  tales 
are  not  for  a  little  lad's  hearing ;  and  see  you  never  speak  of 
them,  Thomas,  for  the  Holy  Office  has  a  long  arm.  You  are 
half  a  Spaniard,  Thomas,  your  skin  and  eyes  tell  their  own 
tale,  but  whatever  skin  and  eyes  may  tell,  let  your  heart  give 
them  the  lie.  Keep  your  heart  English,  Thomas ;  let  no 
foreign  devilments  enter  there.  Hate  all  Spaniards  except 
your  mother,  and  be  watchful  lest  her  blood  should  master 
mine  within  you.' 

I  was  a  child  then,  and  scarcely  understood  his  words  or 
what  he  meant  by  them.  Afterwards  I  learned  to  understand 
them  but  too  well.  As  for  my  father's  counsel,  that  I  should 
conquer  my  Spanish  blood,  would  that  I  could  always  have 
followed  it,  for  I  know  that  from  this  blood  springs  the  most 
of  such  evil  as  is  in  me.  Hence  come  my  fixedness  of  purpose 
or  rather  obstinacy,  and  my  powers  of  unchristian  hatred  that 
are  not  small  towards  those  who  have  wronged  me.  Well, 


12  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

I  have  done  what  I  might  to  overcome  these  and  other  faults, 
but  strive  as  we  may,  that  which  is  bred  in  the  bone  will  out 
in  the  flesh,  as  I  have  seen  in  many  signal  instances. 

There  were  three  of  us  children,  Geoffrey  my  elder  brother, 
myself,  and  my  sister  Mary,  who  was  one  year  my  junior,  the 
sweetest  child  and  the  most  beautiful  that  I  have  ever  known. 
We  were  very  happy  children,  and  our  beauty  was  the  pride 
of  our  father  and  mother,  and  the  envy  of  other  parents.  \ 
was  the  darkest  of  the  three,  dark  indeed  to  swarthiness,  but 
in  Mary  the  Spanish  blood  showed  only  in  her  rich  eyes  of 
velvet  hue,  and  in  the  glow  upon  her  cheek  that  was  like 
the  blush  on  a  ripe  fruit.  My  mother  used  to  call  me  her  little 
Spaniard,  because  of  my  swarthiness,  that  is  when  my  father 
was  not  near,  for  such  names  angered  him.  She  never 
learned  to  speak  English  very  well,  but  he  would  suffer  her  to 
talk  in  no  other  tongue  before  him.  Still,  when  he  was  not 
there  she  spoke  in  Spanish,  of  which  language,  however,  I 
alone  of  the  family  became  a  master— and  that  more  because 
of  certain  volumes  of  old  Spanish  romances  which  she  had 
by  her,  than  for  any  other  reason.  From  my  earliest  child- 
hood I  was  fond  of  such  tales,  and  it  was  by  bribing  me  with 
the  promise  that  I  should  read  them  that  she  persuaded  me 
to  learn  Spanish.  For  my  mother's  heart  still  yearned  towards 
her  old  sunny  home,  and  often  she  would  talk  of  it  with  us 
children,  more  especially  in  the  winter  season,  which  she  hated 
as  I  do.  Once  I  asked  her  if  she  wished  to  go  back  to  Spain. 
She  shivered  and  answered  no,  for  there  dwelt  one  who  was 
her  enemy  and  would  kill  her ;  also  her  heart  was  with  us 
children  and  our  father.  I  wondered  if  this  man  who  sought  to 
kill  my  mother  was  the  same  as  he  of  whom  my  father  had 
spoken  as  *  the  chief  of  the  devils,'  but  I  only  answered  that 
no  man  could  wish  to  kill  one  so  good  and  beautiful. 

'  Ah  !  my  boy,'  she  said,  *  it  is  just  because  I  am,  or  rather 
have  been,  beautiful  that  he  hates  me.  Others  would  have 
wedded  me  besides  your  dear  father,  Thomas.'  And  her  face 
grew  troubled  as  though  with  fear. 

Now  when  I  was  eighteen  and  a  half  years  old,  on  a  certain 
evening  in  the  month  of  May  it  happened  that  a  friend  of  my 
father's,  Squire  Bozard,  late  of  the  Hall  in  this  parish,  called  at 
the  Lodge  on  his  road  from  Yarmouth,  and  in  the  course  of  his 
talk  let  it  fall  that  a  Spanish  ship  was  at  anchor  in  the  Roads, 
laden  with  merchandise.  My  father  pricked  up  his  ears  at 
this,  and  asked  who  her  captain  might  be.  Squire  Bozard 


THE  PARENTAGE  OF   THOMAS    WINGFIELD    13 

answered  that  he  did  not  know  his  name,  but  that  he  had 
seen  him  in  the  market-place,  a  tall  and  stately  man,  richly 
dressed,  with  a  handsome  face  and  a  scar  upon  his  temple. 

At  this  news  my  mother  turned  pale  beneath  her  olive 
skin,  and  muttered  in  Spanish  : 

*  Holy  Mother !  grant  that  it  be  not  he.' 

My  father  also  looked  frightened,  and  questioned  the  squire 
closely  as  to  the  man's  appearance,  but  without  learning  any- 
thing more.  Then  he  bade  him  adieu  with  little  ceremony, 
and  taking  horse  rode  away  for  Yarmouth. 

That  night  my  mother  never  slept,  but  sat  all  through  it 
in  her  nursing  chair,  brooding  over  I  know  not  what.  As  I 
left  her  when  I  went  to  my  bed,  so  I  found  her  when  I  came 
from  it  at  dawn.  I  can  remember  well  pushing  the  door  ajar 
to  see  her  face  glimmering  white  in  the  twilight  of  the  May 
morning,  as  she  sat,  her  large  eyes  fixed  upon  the  lattice. 

'  You  have  risen  early,  mother,'  I  said. 

'  I  have  never  lain  down,  Thomas,'  she  answered. 

'  Why  not  ?     What  do  you  fear  ?  ' 

*  I  fear  the  past  and  the  future,  my  son.    Would  that  your 
father  were  back.' 

About  ten  o'clock  of  that  morning,  as  I  was  making  ready 
to  walk  into  Bungay  to  the  house  of  that  physician  under  whom 
I  was  learning  the  art  of  healing,  my  father  rode  up.  •  My 
mother,  who  was  watching  at  the  lattice,  ran  out  to  meet  him. 

Springing  from  his  horse  he  embraced  her,  saying,  '  Be  of 
good  cheer,  sweet,  it  cannot  be  he.  This  man  has  another 
name.' 

'  But  did  you  see  him  ?  '  she  asked. 

'  No,  he  was  out  at  his  ship  for  the  night,  and  I  hurried 
home  to  tell  you,  knowing  your  fears.' 

*  It  were  surer  if  you  had  seen  him,  husband.     He  may 
well  have  taken  another  name.' 

'  I  never  thought  of  that,  sweet,'  my  father  answered  ;  '  but 
have  no  fear.  Should  it  be  he,  and  should  he  dare  to  set  foot 
in  the  parish  of  Ditchingrham,  there  are  those  who  will  know 
how  to  deal  with  him.  But  I  am  sure  that  it  is  not  he.' 

*  Thanks  be  to  Jesu  then  ! '  she  said,  and  they  began  talk- 
ing in  a  low  voice. 

Now,  seeing  that  I  was  not  wanted,  I  took  my  cudgel  and 
started  down  the  bridle-path  towards  the  common  footbridge, 
when  suddenly  my  mother  called  me  back. 

1  Kiss  me  before  you  go,  Thomas,'  she  said.  '  You  must 
wonder  what  all  this  may  mean.  One  day  your  father  will 


14  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

tell  you.     It  has  to  do  with  a  shadow  which  has  hung  over  my 
life  for  many  years,  but  that  is,  I  trust,  gone  for  ever.' 

*  If  it  be  a  man  who  flings  it,  he  had  best  keep  out  ol 
reach  of  this,'  I  said,  laughing,  and  shaking  my  thick  stick. 

'It  is  a  man,'  she  answered,  '  but  one  to  be  dealt  with 
otherwise  than  by  blows,  Thomas,  should  you  ever  chance  to 
meet  him.' 

'  May  be,  mother,  but  might  is  the  best  argument  at  the 
last,  for  the  most  cunning  have  a  life  to  lose.' 

'You  are  too  ready  to  use  your  strength,  son,'  she  said, 
smiling  and  kissing  me.  '  Remember  the  old  Spanish  proverb  : 
"  He  strikes  hardest  who  strikes  last."  ' 

'  And  remember  the  other  proverb,  mother :  "  Strike  before 
thou  art  stricken,"  '  I  answered,  and  went. 

When  I  had  gone  some  ten  paces  something  prompted 
me  to  look  back,  I  know  not  what.  My  mother  was  standing 
by  the  open  door,  her  stately  shape  framed  as  it  were  in  the 
flowers  of  a  white  creeping  shrub  that  grew  upon  the  wall  of 
the  old  house.  As  was  her  custom,  she  wore  a  mantilla  of 
white  lace  upon  her  head,  the  en&s  of  which  were  wound  be- 
neath her  chin,  and  the  arrangement  of  it  was  such  that  at  this 
distance  for  one  moment  it  put  me  in  mind  of  the  wrappings 
which  are  placed  about  the  dead.  I  started  at  the  thought 
and  looked  at  her  face.  She  was  watching  me  with  sad  and 
earnest  eyes  that  seemed  to  be  filled  with  the  spirit  of  farewell. 

I  never  saw  her  again  till  she  was  dead. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   COMING   OP   THE    SPANIARD 

AND  now  I  must  go  back  and  speak  of  my  own  matters.  As 
I  have  told,  it  was  my  father's  wish  that  I  should  be  a  physi- 
cian, and  since  I  came  back  from  my  schooling  at  Norwich, 
that  was  when  I  had  entered  on  my  sixteenth  year,  I  had 
studied  medicine  under  the  doctor  who  practised  his  art  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Bungay.  He  was  a  very  learned  man  and 
an  honest,  Grimstone  by  name,  and  as  I  had  some  liking  for 
the  business  I  made  good  progress  under  him.  Indeed  I  had 
learned  almost  all  that  he  could  teach  me,  and  my  father 
purposed  to  send  me  to  London,  there  to  push  on  my  studies, 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  SPANIARD  15 

so  soon  as  I  should  attain  my  twentieth  year,  that  is  within 
some  five  months  of  the  date  of  the  coming  of  the  Spaniard. 

But  it  was  not  fated  that  I  should  go  to  London. 

Medicine  was  not  the  only  thing  that  I  studied  in  those 
days,  however.  Squire  Bozard  of  Ditchingham,  the  same 
who  told  my  father  of  the  coming  of  the  Spanish  ship,  had 
two  living  children,  a  son  and  a  daughter,  though  his  wife  had 
borne  him  many  more  who  died  in  infancy.  The  daughter 
was  named  Lily  and  of  my  own  age,  having  been  born  three 
weeks  after  me  in  the  same  year.  Now  the  Bozards  are 
gone  from  these  parts,  for  my  great-niece,  the  granddaughter 
and  sole  heiress  of  this  son,  has  married  and  has  issue  of 
another  name.  But  this  is  by  the  way. 

From  our  earliest  days  we  children,  Bozards  and  Wingfields, 
lived  almost  as  brothers  and  sisters,  for  day  by  day  we  met  and 
played  together  in  the  snow  or  in  the  flowers.  Thus  it  would 
be  hard  for  me  to  say  when  I  began  to  love  Lily  or  when 
she  began  to  love  me  ;  but  I  know  that  when  first  I  went  to 
school  at  Norwich  I  grieved  more  at  losing  sight  of  her  than 
because  I  must  part  from  niy  mother  and  the  rest.  In  all  our 
games  she  was  ever  my  partner,  and  I  would  search  the  country 
round  for  days  to  find  such  flowers  as  she  chanced  to  love. 
When  I  came  back  from  school  it  was  the  same,  though  by 
degrees  Lily  grew  shyer,  and  I  also  grew  suddenly  shy,  per- 
ceiving that  from  a  child  she  had  become  a  woman.  Still  we 
met  often,  and  though  neither  said  anything  of  it,  it  was  sweet 
to  us  to  meet. 

Thus  things  went  on  till  this  day  of  my  mother's  death. 
But  before  I  go  further  I  must  tell  that  Squire  Bozard  looked 
with  no  favour  on  the  friendship  between  his  daughter  and 
myself — and  this,  not  because  he  disliked  me,  but  rather 
because  he  would  have  seen  Lily  wedded  to  my  elder  brother 
Geoffrey,  my  father's  heir,  and  not  to  a  younger  son.  So 
hard  did  he  grow  about  the  matter  at  last  that  we  two  might 
scarcely  meet  except  by  seeming  accident,  whereas  my  brother 
was  ever  welcome  at  the  Hall.  And  on  this  account  some 
bitterness  arose  between  us  two  brothers,  as  is  apt  to  be  the 
case  when  a  woman  comes  between  friends  however  close. 
For  it  must  be  known  that  my  brother  Geoffrey  also  loved 
Lily,  as  all  men  would  have  loved  her,  anl  with  a  better  right 
perhaps  than  I  had — for  he  was  my  elder  by  three  years  and 
born  to  possessions.  It  may  seem  indeed  that  I  was  some- 
what hasty  to  fall  into  this  state,  seeing  that  at  the  time  of 
\vhicli  I  write  I  was  not  yet  of  age  ;  but  young  blood  is  nimble, 


16  MONTEZUMA*S  DAUGHTER 

and  moreover  mine  was  half  Spanish,  and  made  a  man  of 
me  when  many  a  pure-bred  Englishman  is  still  nothing 
but  a  boy.  For  the  blood  and  the  sun  that  ripens  it 
have  much  to  do  with  such  matters,  as  I  have  seen  often 
enough  among  the  Indian  peoples  of  Anahuac,  who  at  the 
age  of  fifteen  will  take  to  themselves  a  bride  of  twelve.  At 
the  least  it  is  certain  that  when  I  was  eighteen  years  of 
age  I  was  old  enough  to  fall  in  love  after  such  fashion  that  I 
never  fell  out  of  it  again  altogether,  although  the  history  of 
my  life  may  seem  to  give  me  the  lie  when  I  say  so.  But  1 
take  it  that  a  man  may  love  several  women  and  yet  love  one 
of  them  the  best  of  all,  being  true  in  the  spirit  to  the  law  which 
he  breaks  in  the  letter. 

Now  when  I  had  attained  nineteen  years  I  was  a  man  full 
grown,  and  writing  as  I  do  in  extreme  old  age,  I  may  say  it 
without  false  shame,  a  very  handsome  youth  to  boot.  I  was  not 
over  tall,  indeed,  measuring  but  five  feet  nine  inches  and  a  half 
in  height,  but  my  limbs  were  well  made,  and  I  was  both  deep 
and  broad  in  the  chest.  In  colour  I  was  and,  my  white  hair 
notwithstanding,  am  still  extraordinarily  dark  hued,  my  eyes 
also  were  large  and  dark,  and  my  hair,  which  was  wavy,  was 
coal  black.  In  my  deportment  I  was  reserved  and  grave  to 
sadness,  in  speech  I  was  slow  and  temperate,  and  more  apt  at 
listening  than  in  talking.  I  weighed  matters  well  before  I 
made  up  my  mind  upon  them,  but  being  made  up,  nothing 
could  turn  me  from  that  mind  short  of  death  itself,  whether  it 
were  set  on  good  or  evil,  011  folly  or  wisdom.  In  those  days 
also  I  had  little  religion,  since,  partly  because  of  my  father' E 
secret  teaching  and  partly  through  the  workings  of  my  owr 
reason,  I  had  learned  to  doubt  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  a^ 
they  used  to  be  set  out.  Youth  is  prone  to  reason  by  large 
leaps  as  it  were,  and  to  hold  that  all  things  are  false  becauso 
some  are  proved  false  ;  and  thus  at  times  in  those  days  I 
thought  that  there  was  no  God,  because  the  priests  said  thai 
the  image  of  the  Virgin  at  Bungay  wept  and  did  other  thing;? 
which  I  knew  that  it  did  not  do.  Now  I  know  well  that 
there  is  a  God,  for  my  own  story  proves  it  to  my  heart.  In 
truth,  what  man  can  look  back  across  a  long  life  and  say 
that  there  is  no  God,  when  he  can  see  the  shadow  of  His 
hand  lying  deep  upon  his  tale  of  years  ? 

On  this  sad  day  of  which  I  write  I  knew  that  Lily,  whom  E 
loved,  would  be  walking  alone  beneath  the  great  pollard  oaks 
in  the  park  of  Ditchingham  Hall.  Here,  in  Grubswell  as 
the  spot  is  called,  grew,  and  indeed  still  grow,  certain  ha\\- 


THE   COMING  OF  THE  SPANIARD  17 

thorn  trees  that  are  the  earliest  to  blow  of  any  in  these  parts, 
and  when  we  had  met  at  the  church  door  on  the  Sunday, 
Lily  said  that  there  would  be  bloom  upon  them  by  the  Wednes- 
day, and  on  that  afternoon  she  should  go  to  cut  it.  It  may 
well  be  that  she  spoke  thus  with  design,  for  love  will  breed 
cunning  in  the  heart  of  the  most  guileless  and  truthful  maid. 
Moreover,  I  noticed  that  though  she  said  it  before  her  father 
and  the  rest  of  us,  yet  she  waited  to  speak  till  my  brother 
Geoffrey  was  out  of  hearing,  for  she  did  not  wish  to  go 
maying  with  him,  and  also  that  as  she  spoke  she  shot  a 
glance  of  her  grey  eyes  at  me.  Then  and  there  I  vowed  to 
myself  that  I  also  would  be  gathering  hawthorn  bloom  in 
this  same  place  and  on  that  Wednesday  afternoon,  yes,  even 
if  I  must  play  truant  and  leave  all  the  sick  of  Bungay  to 
Nature's  nursing.  Moreover,  I  was  determined  on  one  thing, 
that  if  I  could  find  Lily  alone  I  would  delay  no  longer,  but 
tell  her  all  that  was  in  my  heart ;  no  great  secret  indeed, 
for  though  no  word  of  love  had  ever  passed  between  us  as  yet, 
each  knew  the  other's  hidden  thoughts.  Not  that  I  was  in  the 
way  to  become  affianced  to  a  maid,  who  had  my  path  to  cut 
in  the  world,  but  I  feared  that  if  I  delayed  to  make  sure  of  her 
affection  my  brother  would  be  before  me  with  her  father,  and 
Lily  might  yield  to  that  to  which  she  would  not  yield  if  once 
we  had  plighted  troth. 

Now  it  chanced  that  on  this  afternoon  I  was  hard  put  to 
it  to  escape  to  my  tryst,  for  my  master,  the  physician,  was 
ailing,  and  sent  me  to  visit  the  sick  for  him,  carrying  them  their 
medicines.  At  the  last,  however,  between  four  and  five 
o'clock,  I  fled,  asking  no  leave.  Taking  the  Norwich  road  I 
ran  for  a  mile  and  more  till  I  had  passed  the  Manor  House 
and  the  church  turn,  and  drew  near  to  Ditchingham  Park. 
Then  I  dropped  my  pace  to  a  walk,  for  I  did  not  wish  to  come 
before  Lily  heated  and  disordered,  but  rather  looking  my  best, 
to  which  end  I  had  put  on  my  Sunday  garments.  Now  as 
I  went  down  the  little  hill  in  the  road  that  runs  past  the 
park,  I  saw  a  man  on  horseback  who  looked  first  at  the  bridle- 
path, that  at  this  spot  turns  off  to  the  right,  then  back  across  the 
common  lands  towards  the  Vineyard  Hills  and  the  Waveney, 
and  then  along  the  road  as  though  he  did  not  know  which 
way  to  turn.  I  was  quick  to  notice  things — though  at  this 
moment  my  mind  was  not  at  its  swiftest,  being  set  on  other 
matters,  and  chiefly  as  to  how  I  should  tell  my  tale  to  Lily — 
and  I  saw  at  once  that  this  man  was  not  of  our  oountry. 

He  was  very  tall  and  noble-looking,  dressed  in  rich  garments 


IB  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

of  velvet  adorned  by  a  gold  chain  that  hung  about  his  neck, 
and  as  I  judged  about  forty  years  of  age.  But  it  was  his  face 
which  chiefly  caught  my  eye,  for  at  that  moment  there  wae 
something  terrible  about  it.  It  was  long,  thin,  and  deeply 
carved  ;  the  eyes  were  large,  and  gleamed  like  gold  in  sunlight : 
the  mouth  was  small  and  well  shaped,  but  it  wore  a  devilish 
and  cruel  sneer  ;  the  forehead  lofty,  indicating  a  man  of  mind 
and  marked  with  a  slight  scar.  For  the  rest  the  cavalier  was 
dark  and  southern-looking,  his  curling  hair,  like  my  own,  wat 
black,  and  he  wore  a  peaked  chestnut-coloured  beard. 

By  the  time  that  I  had  finished  these  observations  my  f  eei 
had  brought  me  almost  to  the  stranger's  side,  and  for  the  firs' 
time  he  caught  sight  of  me.  Instantly  his  face  changed,  th( 
sneer  left  it,  and  it  became  kindly  and  pleasant  looking 
Lifting  his  bonnet  with  much  courtesy  he  stammered  some 
thing  in  broken  English,  of  which  all  that  I  could  catch  was 
the  word  Yarmouth ;  then  perceiving  that  I  did  not  understam 
him,  he  cursed  the  English  tongue  and  all  those  who  spoke  it 
aloud  and  in  good  Castilian. 

'If  the  senor  will  graciously  express  his  wisTi  in  Spanish,' 
I  said,  speaking  in  that  language,  '  it  may  be  in  my  powe  • 
to  help  him.' 

'What!  you  speak  Spanish,  young  sir,'  he  said,  starting , 
'  and  yet  you  are  not  a  Spaniard,  though  by  your  face  yoi  i 
well  might  be.  Caramba  !  but  it  is  strange ! '  and  he  eye<  I 
me  curiously. 

'It  may  be  strange,  sir,'  1  answered,  '  but  I  am  in  haste. 
Be  pleased  to  ask  your  question  and  let  me  go.' 

'  Ah !  '  he  said,  '  perhaps  I  can  guess  the  reason  of  you : 
hurry.  I  saw  a  white  robe  down  by  the  streamlet  yonder, ' 
and  he  nodded  towards  the  park.  '  Take  the  advice  of  a:i 
older  man,  young  sir,  and  be  careful.  Make  what  sport  yo  i 
will  with  such,  but  never  believe  them  and  never  marry  them 
• — lest  you  should  live  to  desire  to  kill  them  ! ' 

Here  I  made  as  though  I  would  pass  on,  but  he  spoke  again. 

*  Pardon  my  words,  they  were  well  meant,  and  perhaps 
you  may  come  to  learn  their  truth.  I  will  detain  you  no  moro. 
Will  you  graciously  direct  me  on  my  road  to  Yarmouth,  for  I 
am  not  sure  of  it,  having  ridden  by  another  way,  and  your 
English  country  is  so  full  of  trees  that  a  man  cannot  see  a  mile  •' ' 

I  walked  a  dozen  paces  down  the  bridle-path  that  joined 
the  road  at  this  place,  and  pointed  out  the  way  that  he  should 
go,  past  Ditchingham  church.  As  I  did  so  I  noticed  th^t 
while  I  spoke  the  stranger  was  watching  my  face  keenly  and, 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  SPANIARD  19 

as  it  seemed  to  me,  with  an  inward  fear  which  he  strove  to 
master  and  could  not.  When  I  had  finished  again  he  raised 
his  bonnet  and  thanked  me,  saying, 

'  Will  you  be  so  gracious  as  to  tell  me  your  name,  young  sir  ? ' 

'  What  is  my  name  to  you  ? '  I  answered  roughly,  for  I 
disliked  this  man.  *  You  have  not  told  me  yours.' 

'  No,  indeed,  I  am  travelling  incognito.  Perhaps  I  also 
have  met  a  lady  in  these  parts,'  and  he  smiled  strangely. 
'  I  only  wished  to  know  the  name  of  one  who  had  done  me  a 
courtesy,  but  who  it  seems  is  not  so  courteous  as  I  deemed.' 
And  he  shook  his  horse's  reins. 

'  I  am  not  ashamed  of  my  name,'  I  said.  '  It  has  been 
an  honest  one  so  far,  and  if  you  wish  to  know  it,  it  is  Thomas 
Wingfield.' 

'I  thought  it,'  he  cried,  and  as  he  spoke  his  face  grew 
like  the  face  of  a  fiend.  Then  before  I  could  find  time  even 
to  wonder,  he  had  sprung  from  his  horse  and  stood  within 
three  paces  of  me. 

'  A  lucky  day !  Now  we  will  see  what  truth  there  is  in 
prophecies,'  he  said,  drawing  his  silver-mo  anted  sword.  '  A 
name  for  a  name  ;  Juan  de  Garcia  gives  you  greeting,  Thomas 
Wingfield.' 

Now,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  it  was  at  this  moment  only 
that  there  flashed  across  my  mind  the  thought  of  all  that  I 
had  heard  about  the  Spanish  stranger,  the  report  of  whose 
coining  to  Yarmouth  had  stirred  my  father  and  mother  so 
deeply.  At  any  other  time  I  should  have  remembered  it  soon 
enough,  but  on  this  day  I  was  so  set  upon  my  tryst  with 
Lily  and  what  I  should  say  to  her,  that  nothing  else  could 
hold  a  place  in  my  thoughts. 

'  This  must  be  the  man,'  I  said  to  myself,  and  then  I  said 
no  more,  for  he  was  on  me,  sword  up.  I  saw  the  keen  point 
flash  towards  me,  and  sprang  to  one  side  having  a  desire  to  fly, 
as,  being  unarmed  except  for  my  stick,  I  might  have  done 
without  shame.  But  spring  as  I  would  I  could  not  avoid  the 
thrust  altogether.  It  was  aimed  at  my  heart  and  it  pierced 
the  sleeve  of  my  left  arm,  passing  through  the  flesh — no  more. 
Yet  at  the  pain  of  that  cut  all  thought  of  'flight  left  me,  and 
instead  of  it  a  cold  anger  filled  me,  causing  me  to  wish  to  kill 
this  man  who  had  attacked  me  thus  and  unprovoked.  In  my 
hand  was  my  stout  oaken  staff  which  I  had  cut  myself  on 
the  banks  of  Hollow  Hill,  and  if  I  would  fight  I  must  make 
such  play  with  this  as  I  might.  It  seems  a  poor  weapon 
indeed  to  match  against  a  Toledo  blade  in  the  hands  of  one 

c2 


20  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

who  could  handle  it  well,  and  yet  there  are  virtues  in  a 
cudgel,  for  when  a  man  sees  himself  threatened  with  it,  he  is 
likely  to  forget  that  he  holds  in  his  hand  a  more  deadly  weapon, 
and  to  take  to  the  guarding  of  his  own  head  in  place  of  running 
his  adversary  through  the  body. 

And  that  was  what  chanced  in  this  case,  though  how  it 
came  about  exactly  I  cannot  tell.  The  Spaniard  was  a  fine 
swordsman,  and  had  I  been  armed  as  he  was  would  doubtless 
have  overmatched  me,  who  at  that  age  had  no  practice  in  the 
art,  which  was  almost  unknown  in  England.  But  when  he 
saw  the  big  stick  flourished  over  him  he  forgot  his  own  ad- 
vantage, and  raised  his  arm  to  ward  away  the  blow.  Down 
it  came  upon  the  back  of  his  hand,  and  lo !  his  sword  fell 
from  it  to  the  grass.  But  I  did  not  spare  him  because  oi 
that,  for  my  blood  was  up.  The  next  stroke  took  him  on  the 
lips,  knocking  out  a  tooth  and  sending  him  backwards.  Then 
I  caught  him  by  the  leg  and  beat  him  most  unmercifully,  not 
upon  the  head  indeed,  for  now  that  I  was  victor  I  did  noi 
wish  to  kill  one  whom  I  thought  a  madman  as  I  would  that  ] 
had  done,  but  on  every  other  part  of  him. 

Indeed  I  thrashed  him  till  my  arms  were  weary  and  ther 
I  fell  to  kicking  him,  and  all  the  while  he  writhed  like  g 
wounded  snake  and  cursed  horribly,  though  he  never  criec 
out  or  asked  for  mercy.  At  last  I  ceased  and  looked  at  him 
and  he  was  no  pretty  sight  to  see — indeed,  what  with  his  cutf- 
and  bruises  and  the  mire  of  the  roadway,  it  would  have  beer. 
hard  to  know  him  for  the  gallant  cavalier  whom  I  had  me; 
not  five  minutes  before.  But  uglier  than  all  his  hurts  was 
the  look  in  his  wicked  eyes  as  he  lay  there  on  his  back  in  tho 
pathway  and  glared  up  at  me. 

'  Now,  friend  Spaniard,'  I  said, '  you  have  learned  a  lesson  ; 
and  what  is  there  to  hinder  me  from  treating  you  as  you  would 
have  dealt  with  me  who  had  never  harmed  you  ?  '  and  I  too't 
up  his  sword  and  held  it  to  his  throat. 

*  Strike  home,  you  accursed  whelp !  '  he  answered  in  a, 
broken  voice  ;  '  it  is  better  to  die  than  to  live  to  remember 
such  shame  as  this.' 

'  No,'  I  said,  '  I  am  no  foreign  murderer  to  kill  a  defence- 
less man.  You  shall  away  to  the  justice  to  answer  for  your- 
self. The  hangman  has  a  rope  for  such  as  you.' 

'  Then  you  must  drag  me  thither,'  he  groaned,  and  shut 
his  eyes  as  though  with  faintness,  and  doubtless  he  was 
somewhat  faint. 

Now  as  I  pondered  on  what  should  be  done  with  tie 


'Juan  de  Garcia  gives  ycu  greeting,  Thomas  WingScld.' 


THE   COMING   OF  THE  SPANIARD  21 

villain,  it  chanced  that  I  looked  up  through  a  gap  in  the 
fence,  and  there,  among  the  Grubswell  oaks  three  hundred 
yards  or  more  away,  I  caught  sight  of  the  flutter  of  a  white 
robe  that  I  knew  well,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  wearer 
of  that  robe  was  moving  towards  the  bridge  of  the  '  watering ' 
as  though  she  were  weary  of  waiting  for  one  who  did  not  come. 

Then  I  thought  to  myself  that  if  I  stayed  to  drag  this 
man  to  the  villa,ge  stocks  or  some  other  safe  place,  there 
would  be  an  end  of  meeting  with  my  love  that  day,  and  I  did 
not  know  when  I  might  find  another  chance.  Now  I  would 
not  have  missed  that  hour's  talk  with  Lily  to  bring  a  score  of 
murderous-minded  foreigners  to  then:  deserts,  and,  moreover, 
this  one  had  earned  good  payment  for  his  behaviour.  Surely, 
thought  I,  he  might  -wait  a  while  till  I  had  done  my  love- 
making,  and  if  he  would  not  wait  I  could  find  a  means  to  make 
him  do  so.  Not  twenty  paces  from  us  the  horse  stood  cropping 
the  grass.  I  went  to  him  and  undid  his  bridle  rein,  and  with  it 
fastened  the  Spaniard  to  a  small  wayside  tree  as  best  I  was  able. 

'  Now,  here  you  stay,'  I  said,  '  till  I  am  ready  to  fetch 
you  ; '  and  I  turned  to  go. 

But  as  I  went  a  great  doubt  took  me,  and  once  more  I 
remembered  my  mother's  fear,  and  how  my  father  had  ridden 
in  haste  to  Yarmouth  on  business  about  a  Spaniard.  Now 
to-day  a  Spaniard  had  wandered  to  Ditchingham,  and  when  he 
learned  my  name  had  fallen  upon  me  madly  trying  to  kill  me. 
Was  not  this  the  man  whom  my  mother  feared,  and  was  it 
right  that  I  should  leave  him  thus  that  I  might  go  maying 
with  my  dear  ?  I  knew  in  my  breast  that  it  was  not  right, 
but  I  was  so  set  upon  my  desire  and  so  strongly  did  my  heart- 
strings pull  me  towards  her  whose  white  robe  now  fluttered 
on  the  slope  of  the  Park  Hill,  that  I  never  heeded  the  warning. 

Well  had  it  been  for  me  if  I  had  done  so,  and  well  for  some 
who  were  yet  unborn.  Then  they  had  never  known  death,  nor 
I  the  land  of  exile,  the  taste  of  slavery,  and  the  altar  of  sacrifice. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THOMAS   TELLS   HIS   LOVE 


HAVING  made  the  Spaniard  as  fast  as  I  could,  his  arms  being 
bound  to  the  tree  behind  him,  and  taking  his  sword  with  me, 
I  began  to  run  hard  after  Lily  and  caught  her  not  too  soon, 
for  in  one  more  minute  she  would  have  turned  along  the 


22  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

road  that  runs  to  the  watering  and  over  the  bridge  by  the 
Park  Hill  path  to  the  Hall. 

Hearing  my  footsteps,  she  faced  about  to  greet  me,  or 
rather  as  though  to  see  who  it  was  that  followed  her.  There 
she  stood  in  the  evening  light,  a  bough  of  hawthorn  bloom 
in  her  hand,  and  my  heart  beat  yet  more  wildly  at  the  sight 
of  her.  Never  had  she  seemed  fairer  than  as  she  stood  thus 
in  her  white  robe,  a  look  of  amaze  upon  her  face  and  in  her 
grey  eyes,  that  was  half  real  half  feigned,  and  with  the  sun- 
light shifting  on  her  auburn  hair  that  showed  beneath  her 
little  bonnet.  Lily  was  no  round-cheeked  country  maid  with 
few  beauties  save  those  of  health  and  youth,  but  a  tall  and 
shapely  lady  who  had  ripened  early  to  her  full  grace  and 
sweetness,  and  so  it  came  about  that  though  we  were  almost  of 
an  age,  yet  in  her  presence  I  felt  always  as  though  I  were  the 
younger.  Thus  in  my  love  for  her  was  mingled  some  touch 
of  reverence. 

'  Oh !  it  is  you,  Thomas,'  she  said,  blushing,  as  she  spoke. 
'  I  thought  you  were  not — I  mean  that  I  am  going  home  as  it 
grows  late.  But  say,  why  do  you  run  so  fast,  and  what  has 
happened  to  you,  Thomas,  that  your  arm  is  bloody  and  you 
carry  a  sword  in  your  hand  ?  ' 

' 1  have  no  breath  to  speak  yet,'  I  answered.  *  Come  back 
to  the  hawthorns  and  I  will  tell  you.' 

1  No,  I  must  be  wending  homewards.  I  have  been  among 
the  trees  for  more  than  an  hour,  and  there  is  little  bloom  upon 
them.' 

'  I  could  not  come  before,  Lily.  I  was  kept,  and  in  a 
strange  manner.  Also  I  saw  bloom  as  I  ran.' 

'  Indeed,  I  never  thought  that  you  would  come,  Thomas,' 
she  answered,  looking  down,  '  who  have  other  things  to  do 
than  to  go  out  maying  like  a  girl.  But  I  wish  to  hear  your 
story,  if  it  is  short,  and  I  will  walk  a  little  way  with  you.' 

So  we  turned  and  walked  side  by  side  towards  the  great 
pollard  oaks,  and  by  the  time  that  we  reached  them,  I  had 
told  her  the  tale  of  the  Spaniard,  and  how  he  strove  to 
kill  me,  and  how  I  had  beaten  him  with  my  staff.  Now  Lily 
listened  eagerly  enough,  and  sighed  with  fear  when  she 
learned  how  close  I  had  been  to  death. 

*  But  you  are  wounded,  Thomas,'  she  broke  in  ;  *  see,  the 
blood  runs  fast  from  your  arm.     Is  the  thrust  deep  ?  ' 

'  I  have  not  looked  to  see.     I  have  had  no  time  to  look.' 

*  Take  off  your  coat,  Thomas,  that  I  may  dress  the  wound. 
Nay,  I  will  have  it  so.' 


THOMAS    TELLS  HIS  LOVE  23 

So  I  drew  off  the  garment,  not  without  pain,  and  rolled 
up  the  shirt  beneath,  and  there  was  the  hurt,  a  clean  thrust 
through  the  fleshy  part  of  the  lower  arm.  Lily  washed  it 
with  water  from  the  brook,  and  bound  it  with  her  kerchief, 
murmuring  words  of  pity  all  the  while.  To  say  truth,  I  would 
have  suffered  a  worse  harm  gladly,  if  only  I  could  find  her  to 
tend  it.  Indeed,  her  gentle  care  broke  down  the  fence  of  my 
doubts  and  gave  me  a  courage  that  otherwise  might  have 
failed  me  in  her  presence.  At  first,  indeed,  I  could  find  no 
words,  but  as  she  bound  my  wound,  I  bent  down  and  kissed 
her  ministering  hand.  She  flushed  red  as  the  evening  sky,, 
the  flood  of  crimson  losing  itself  at  last  beneath  her  auburn 
hair,  but  it  burned  deepest  upon  tho  white  hand  which  I  had 
kissed. 

'  Why  did  you  do  that,  Thomas  ?  '  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

Then  I  spoke.  '  I  did  it  because  I  love  you,  Lily,  and 
do  not  know  how  to  begin  the  telling  of  my  love.  I  love  you, 
dear,  and  have  always  loved  as  I  always  shall  love  you.' 

1  Are  you  so  sure  of  that,  Thomas  ?  '  she  said,  again. 

*  Thero  is  nothing  else  in  the  world  of  which  I  am  so  sure> 
Lily.     What  I  wish  to  be  as  sure  of  is  that  you  love  me  as  I 
love  you.' 

For  a  moment  she  stood  quiet,  her  head  sunk  almost  to 
her  breast,  then  she  lifted  it  and  her  eyes  shone  as  I  had 
never  seen  them  shine  before. 

*  Can  you  doubt  it,  Thomas  ?  '  she  said. 

And  now  I  took  her  in  my  arms  and  kissed  her  on  the  lips, 
and  the  memory  of  that  kiss  has  gone  with  me  through  my 
long  life,  and  is  with  me  yet,  when,  old  and  withered,  I  stand 
upon  the  borders  of  the  grave.  It  was  the  greatest  joy  that 
has  been  given  to  me  in  all  my  days.  Too  soon,  alas  !  it  was 
done,  that  first  pure  kiss  of  youthful  love — and  I  spoke  again 
somewhat  aimlessly. 

'  It  seems  then  that  you  do  love  me  who  love  you  so  well.3 

'  If  you  doubted  it  before,  can  you  doubt  it  now  ?  '  she  an- 
swered very  softly.  '  But  listen,  Thomas.  It  is  well  that  we 
should  love  each  other,  for  we  were  born  to  it,  and  have  no 
help  in  the  matter,  even  if  we  wished  to  find  it.  Still,  though 
love  be  sweet  and  holy,  it  is  not  all,  for  there  is  duty  to  be 
thought  of,  and  what  will  my  father  say  to  this,  Thomas  ?  * 

'  I  do  not  know,  Lily,  and  yet  I  can  guess.  I  am  sure, 
sweet,  that  he  wishes  you  to  take  my  brother  Geoffrey,  and 
leave  me  on  one  side.' 

'  Then  his  wishes  are  not  mine,  Thomas.     Also,  though 


24  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

duty  be  strong,  it  is  not  strong  enough  to  force  a  woman  to  a 
marriage  for  which  she  has  no  liking.  Yet  it  may  prove 
strong  enough  to  keep  a  woman  from  a  marriage  for  which 
her  heart  pleads — perhaps,  also,  it  should  have  been  strong 
enough  to  hold  me  back  from  the  telling  of  my  love.' 

*  No,  Lily,  the  love  itself  is  much,  and  though  it  should  bring 
no  fruit,  still  it  is  something  to  have  won  it  for  ever  and  a  day.' 

'You  are  very  young  to  talk  thus,  Thomas.  I  am  also 
young,  I  know,  but  we  women  ripen  quicker.  Perhaps  all 
this  is  but  a  boy's  fancy,  to  pass  with  boyhood.' 

'  It  will  never  pass,  Lily.  They  say  that  our  first  loves  are 
the  longest,  and  that  which  is  sown  in  youth  will  flourish  in 
our  age.  Listen,  Lily  ;  I  have  my  place  to  make  in  the  world, 
and  it  may  take  a  time  in  the  making,  and  I  ask  one  promise 
of  you,  though  perhaps  it  is  a  selfish  thing  to  seek.  I  ask  of 
you  that  you  will  be  faithful  to  me,  and  come  fair  weather  or 
foul,  will  wed  no  other  man  till  you  know  me  dead.' 

'  It  is  something  to  promise,  Thomas,  for  with  time  come 
changes.  Still  I  am  so  sure  of  myself  that  I  promise — nay  I 
swear  it.  Of  you  I  cannot  be  sure,  but  things  are  so  with  us 
women  that  we  must  risk  all  upon  a  throw,  and  if  we  lose, 
good-bye  to  happiness.' 

Then  we  talked  on,  and  I  cannot  remember  what  we  said, 
though  these  words  that  I  have  written  down  remain  in  my 
mind,  partly  because  of  their  own  weight,  and  in  part  because 
of  all  that  came  about  in  the  after  years. 

And  at  last  I  knew  that  I  must  go,  though  we  were  sad 
enough  at  parting.  So  I  took  her  in  my  arms  and  kissed 
her  so  closely  that  some  blood  from  my  wound  ran  down  her 
white  attire.  But  as  we  embraced  I  chanced  to  look  up, 
and  saw  a  sight  that  frightened  me  enough.  For  there,  not 
five  paces  from  us,  stood  Squire  Bozard,  Lily's  father, 
watching  all,  and  his  face  wore  110  smile. 

He  had  been  riding  by  a  bridle  path  to  the  watering  ford, 
and  seeing  a  couple  trespassing  beneath  the  oaks,  dismounted 
from  his  horse  to  hunt  them  away.  Not  till  he  was  quite  near 
did  he  know  whom  he  came  to  hunt,  and  then  he  stood  still  in 
astonishment.  Lily  and  I  drew  slowly  apart  and  looked  at 
him.  He  was  a  short  stout  man,  with  a  red  face  and  stern 
grey  eyes,  that  seemed  to  be  starting  from  his  head  with 
anger.  For  a  while  he  could  not  speak,  but  when  he  began 
at  length  the  words  came  fast  enough.  All  that  he  said  I 
forget,  but  the  upshot  of  it  was  that  he  desired  to  know  what 
my  business  was  with  his  daughter.  I  waited  till  he  was  out 


THOMAS   TELLS  HIS  LOVE  25 

of  breath,  then  answered  him  that  Lily  and  I  loved  each  other 
well,  and  were  plighting  our  troth. 

'  Is  this  so,  daughter  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  It  is  so,  my  father,'  she  answered  boldly. 

Then  he  broke  out  swearing.  *  You  light  minx,'  he  said, 
'  you  shall  be  whipped  and  kept  cool  on  bread  and  water  in 
your  chamber.  And  for  yon,  my  half-bred  Spanish  cockerel, 
know  once  and  for  all  that  this  maid  is  for  your  betters.  How 
dare  you  come  wooing  my  daughter,  you  empty  pill-box,  who 
have  not  two  silver  pennies  to  rattle  in  your  pouch !  Go  win 
fortune  and  a  name  before  you  dare  to  look  up  to  such  as  she.' 

1  That  is  my  desire,  and  I  will  do  it,  sir,'  I  answered. 

4  So,  you  apothecary's  drudge,  you  will  win  name  and 
place,  will  you  !  Well,  long  before  that  deed  is  done  the  maid 
shall  be  safely  wedded  to  one  who  has  them  and  who  is  not 
unknown  to  you.  Daughter,  say  now  that  you  have  finished 
with  him.' 

'  I  cannot  say  that,  father,'  she  replied,  plucking  at  her 
robe.  '  If  it  is  not  your  will  that  I  should  marry  Thomas  here, 
my  duty  is  plain  and  I  may  not  wed  him.  But  I  am  my  own 
and  no  duty  can  make  me  marry  where  I  will  not.  While 
Thomas  lives  I  am  sworn  to  him  and  to  no  other  man.' 

'  At  the  least  you  have  courage,  hussey,'  said  her  father. 
'  But  listen  now,  either  you  will  marry  where  and  when  I  wish, 
or  tramp  it  for  your  bread.  Ungrateful  girl,  did  I  breed  you  to 
flaunt  me  to  my  face  ?  Now  for  you,  pill-box.  I  will  teach  you 
to  come  kissing  honest  men's  daughters  without  their  leave,' 
and  with  a  curse  he  rushed  at  me,  stick  aloft,  to  thrash  me. 

Then  for  the  second  time  that  day  my  quick  blood  boiled 
in  me,  and  snatching  up  the  Spaniard's  sword  that  lay  upon 
the  grass  beside  me,  I  held  it  at  the  point,  for  the  game  was 
changed,  and  I  who  had  fought  with  cudgel  against  sword, 
must  now  fight  with  sword  against  cudgel.  And  had  it  not  been 
that  Lily  with  a  quick  cry  of  fear  struck  my  arm  from  beneath 
causing  the  point  of  the  sword  to  pass  over  his  shoulder,  I 
believe  truly  that  I  should  then  and  there  have  pierced  her 
father  through,  and  ended  my  days  early  with  a  noose  about 
my  neck. 

*  Are  you  mad  ?  '  she  cried.    '  And  do  you  think  to  win  me 
by  slaying  my  father  ?     Throw  down  that  sword,  Thomas.' 

*  As  for  winning  you,  it  seems  that  there  is  small  chance 
of  it,'  I  answered  hotly,  '  but  I  tell  you  this,  not  for  the  sake 
of  all  the  maids  upon  the  earth  will  I  stand  to  be  beaten  with 
a  stick  like  a  scullion.' 


26  MONTEZUMA''S  DAUGHTER 

'  And  there  I  do  not  blame  you,  lad,'  said  her  father,  more 
kindly.  '  I  see  that  you  also  have  courage  which  may  serve 
you  in  good  stead,  and  it  was  unworthy  of  me  to  call  you 
"  pill-box  "  in  my  anger.  Still,  as  I  have  said,  the  girl  is  not 
for  you,  so  begone  and  forget  her  as  best  you  may,  and  if  you 
value  your  life,  never  let  me  find  you  two  kissing  again.  And 
know  that  to-morrow  I  will  have  a  word  with  your  father  on 
this  matter.' 

'  I  will  go  since  I  must  go,'  I  answered,  '  but,  sir,  I  still 
hope  to  live  to  call  your  daughter  wife.  Lily,  farewell  till 
these  storms  are  overpast.' 

'Farewell,  Thomas,'  she  said  weeping.  'Forget  me  not 
and  I  wih1  never  forget  my  oath  to  you.' 

Then  taking  Lily  by  the  arm  her  father  led  her  away. 

I  also  went  away — sad,  but  not  altogether  ill-pleased.  For 
now  I  knew  that  if  I  had  won  the  father's  anger,  I  had  also 
won  the  daughter's  unalterable  love,  and  love  lasts  longer 
than  wrath,  and  here  or  hereafter  will  win  its  way  at  length. 
When  I  had  gone  a  little  distance  I  remembered  the  Spaniard, 
who  had  been  clean  forgotten  by  me  in  all  this  love  and  war, 
and  I  turned  to  seek  him  and  drag  him  to  the  stocks,  the  which 
I  should  have  done  with  joy,  and  been  glad  to  find  some  one 
on  whom  to  wreak  my  wrongs.  But  when  I  came  to  the 
spot  where  I  had  left  him,  I  found  that  fate  had  befriended 
him  by  the  hand  of  a  fool,  for  there  was  no  Spaniard  but  only 
the  village  idiot,  Billy  Minns  by  name,  who  stood  staring  first 
at  the  tree  to  which  the  foreigner  had  been  made  fast,  and 
then  at  a  piece  of  silver  in  his  hand. 

*  Where  is  the  man  who  was  tied  here,  Billy  ?  '  I  asked. 

' 1  know  not,  Master  Thomas,'  he  answered  in  his  Norfolk 
talk  which  I  will  not  set  down.  '  Half-way  to  wheresoever  he 
was  going  I  should  say,  measured  by  the  pace  at  which  he 
left  when  once  I  had  set  him  upon  his  horse.' 

'  You  set  him  on  his  horse,  fool  ?   How  long  was  that  ago  ?' 

*  How  long !     Well,  it  might  be  one  hour,  and  it  might  be 
two.     I'm  no  reckoner  of  time,  that  keeps  its  own  score  like 
an  innkeeper,  without  my  help.     Lawks !  how  he  did  gallop 
off,  working  those  long  spurs  he  wore  right  into  the  ribs  of 
the  horse.     And  little  wonder,  poor  man,  and  he  daft,  not 
being  able  to  speak,  but  only  to  bleat  sheeplike,  and  fallen 
upon  by  robbers  on  the  king's  roads,  and  in  broad  daylight. 
But  Billy  cut  him  loose  and  caught  his  horse  and  set  him  on 
it,  and  got  this  piece  for  his  good  charity.     Lawks  !  but  he 
was  glad  to  be  gone.     How  he  did  gallop  ! ' 


THOMAS   TELLS  HIS  LOVE  27 

'  Now  you  are  a  bigger  fool  even  than  I  thought  you, 
Billy  Minns,'  I  said  in  anger.  'That  man  would  have 
murdered  me,  I  overcame  him  and  made  him  fast,  and  you 
have  let  him  go.' 

4  He  would  have  murdered  you,  Master,  and  you  made  him 
fast !  Then  why  did  you  not  stop  to  keep  him  till  I  came 
along,  and  we  would  have  haled  him  to  the  stocks  ?  That 
would  have  been  sport  and  all.  You  call  me  fool— but  if  you 
found  a  man  covered  with  blood  and  hurts  tied  to  a  tree,  and 
he  daft  and  not  able  to  speak,  had  you  not  cut  him  loose  ? 
Well,  he's  gone,  and  this  alone  is  left  of  him,'  and  he  spun  the 
piece  into  the  air. 

Now,  seeing  that  there  was  reason  in  Billy's  talk,  for 
the  fault  was  mine,  I  turned  away  without  more  words,  not 
straight  homewards,  for  I  wished  to  think  alone  awhile  on  all 
that  had  come  about  between  me  and  Lily  and  her  father, 
but  down  the  way  which  runs  across  the  lane  to  the  crest  of 
the  Vineyard  Hills.  These  hills  are  clothed  with  underwood, 
in  which  large  oaks  grow  to  within  some  two  hundred  yards 
of  this  house  where  I  write,  and  this  underwood  is  pierced 
by  paths  that  my  mother  laid  out,  for  she  loved  to  walk  here. 
One  of  these  paths  runs  along  the  bottom  of  the  hill  by  the 
edge  of  the  pleasant  river  Waveney,  and  the  other  a  hundred 
feet  or  more  above  and  near  the  crest  of  the  slope,  or  to  speak 
more  plainly,  there  is  but  one  path  shaped  like  the  letter  0, 
placed  thus  o  ,  the  curved  ends  of  the  letter  marking  how  the 
path  turns  upon  the  hillside. 

Now  I  struck  the  path  at  the  end  that  is  furthest  from 
this  house,  and  followed  that  halt'  of  it  which  runs  down  by 
the  river  bank,  having  the  water  on  one  side  of  it  and  the 
brushwood  upon  the  other.  Along  this  lower  path  I  wandered, 
my  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground,  thinking  deeply  as  I  went, 
now  of  the  joy  of  Lily's  love,  and  now  of  the  sorrow  of  our 
parting  and  of  her  father's  wrath.  As  I  went,  thus  wrapped 
in  meditation,  I  sajy  something  white  lying  upon  the  grass, 
and  pushed  it  aside  with  the  point  of  the  Spaniard's  sword,  not 
heeding  it.  Still,  its  shape  and  fashioning  remained  in  my 
mind,  and  when  I  had  left  it  some  three  hundred  paces  behind 
me,  and  was  drawing  near  to  the  house,  the  sight  of  it  came 
back  to  me  as  it  lay  soft  and  white  upon  the  grass,  and  I  knew 
that  it  was  familiar  to  my  eyes.  From  the  thing,  whatever 
it  might  be,  my  mind  passed  to  the  Spaniard's  sword  with 
which  I  had  tossed  it  aside,  and  from  the  sword  to  the  man 
himself.  What  had  been  his  business  in  this  parish  ? — an  ill 


28  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

one  surely — and  why  had  he  looked  as  though  he  feared  me 
and  fallen  upon  me  when  he  learned  my  name  ? 

I  stood  still,  looking  downward,  and  my  eyes  fell  upon 
footprints  stamped  in  the  wet  sand  of  the  path.  One  of  them 
was  my  mother's.  I  could  have  sworn  to  it  among  a  thou- 
sand, for  no  other  woman  in  these  parts  had  so  delicate  a  foot. 
Close  to  it,  as  though  following  after,  was  another  that  at  first 
I  thought  must  also  have  been  made  by  a  woman,  it  was  so 
narrow.  But  presently  I  saw  that  this  could  scarcely  be,  be- 
cause of  its  length,  and  moreover,  that  the  boot  which  left  it 
was  like  none  that  I  knew,  being  cut  very  high  at  the  instep 
and  very  pointed  at  the  toe.  Then,  of  a  sudden,  it  came  upon 
me  that  the  Spanish  stranger  wore  such  boots,  for  I  had 
noted  them  while  I  talked  with  him,  and  that  his  feet  were 
following  those  of  my  mother,  for  they  had  trodden  on  her 
track,  and  in  some  places,  his  alone  had  stamped  their  impress 
on  the  sand  blotting  out  her  footprints.  Then,  too,  I  knew 
what  the  white  rag  was  that  I  had  thrown  aside.  It  was  my 
mother's  mantilla  which  I  knew,  and  yet  did  not  know,  because 
I  always  saw  it  set  daintily  upon  her  head.  In  a  moment  it 
had  come  home  to  me,  and  with  the  knowledge  a  keen  and 
sickening  dread.  Why  had  this  man  followed  my  mother, 
and  why  did  her  mantilla  lie  thus  upon  the  ground  ? 

I  turned  and  sped  like  a  deer  back  to  where  I  had  seen  the 
lace.  All  the  way  the  footprints  went  before  me.  Now  I  was 
there.  Yes,  the  wrapping  was  hers,  and  it  had  been  rent  as 
though  by  a  rude  hand ;  but  where  was  she  ? 

With  a  beating  heart  once  more  I  bent  to  read  the  writing 
of  the  footsteps.  Here  they  were  mixed  one  with  another,  as 
though  the  two  had  stood  close  together,  moving  now  this 
way  and  now  that  in  struggle.  I  looked  up  the  path,  but  there 
were  none.  Then  I  cast  round  about  like  a  beagle,  first  along 
the  river  side,  then  up  the  bank.  Here  they  were  again,  and 
made  by  feet  that  flew  and  feet  that  followed.  Up  the  bank 
they  went  fifty  yards  and  more,  now  lost  where  the  turf  was 
sound,  now  seen  in  sand  or  loam,  till  they  led  to  the  bole  of  a 
big  oak,  and  were  once  more  mixed  together,  for  here  the  pur- 
suer had  come  up  with  the  pursued. 

Despairingly  as  one  who  dreams,  for  now  I  guessed  all 
and  grew  mad  with  fear,  I  looked  this  way  and  that,  till  at 
length  I  found  more  footsteps,  those  of  the  Spaniard.  These 
were  deep  marked,  as  of  a  man  who  carried  some  heavy 
burden.  I  followed  them  ;  first  they  went  down  the  hill 
towards  the  river,  then  turned  aside  to  a  spot  where  the 


THOMAS   TELLS  HIS  LOVE  29 

brushwood  was  thick.  In  the  deepest  of  the  clump  the  boughs, 
now  bursting  into  leaf,  were  bent  downwards  as  though  to 
hide  something  beneath.  I  wrenched  them  aside,  and  there, 
gleaming  whitely  in  the  gathering  twilight  was  the  dead  face 
of  my  mother. 


CHAPTER   V 

THOMAS    SWEARS   AN   OATH 

FOR  a  while  I  stood  amazed  with  horror,  staring  down  at  the 
dead  face  of  my  beloved  mother.  Then  I  stooped  to  lift  her 
and  saw  that  she  had  been  stabbed,  and  through  the  breast, 
stabbed  with  the  sword  which  I  carried  in  my  hand. 

Now  I  understood.  This  was  the  work  of  that  Spanish 
stranger  whom  I  had  met  as  he  hurried  from  the  place  of 
murder,  who,  because  of  the  wickedness  of  his  heart  or  for 
some  secret  reason,  had  striven  to  slay  me  also  when  he  learned 
that  I  was  my  mother's  son.  And  I  had  held  this  devil  in 
my  power,  and  that  I  might  meet  my  May,  I  had  suffered  him 
to  escape  my  vengeance,  who,  had  I  known  the  truth,  would 
have  dealt  with  him  as  the  priests  of  Anahuac  deal  with  the 
victims  of  their  gods.  I  understood  and  shed  tears  of  pity, 
rage,  and  shame.  Then  I  turned  and  fled  homewards  like 
one  mad. 

At  the  doorway  I  met  my  father  and  my  brother  Geoffrey 
riding  up  from  Bungay  market,  and  there  was  that  written 
on  my  face  which  caused  them  to  ask  as  with  one  voice  : 

'  What  evil  thing  has  happened  ?  ' 

Thrice  I  looked  at  my  father  before  I  could  speak,  for  I 
feared  lest  the  blow  should  kill  him.  But  speak  I  must  at 
last,  though  I  chose  that  it  should  be  to  Geoffrey  my  brother. 
'  Our  mother  lies  murdered  yonder  on  the  Vineyard  Hill.  A 
Spanish  man  has  done  the  deed,  Juan  de  Garcia  by  name.' 
When  my  father  heard  these  words  his  face  became  livid  as 
though  with  pain  of  the  heart,  his  jaw  fell  and  a  low  moan 
issued  from  his  open  mouth.  Presently  he  rested  his  hand 
upon  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  and  lifting  his  ghastly  face 
he  said : 

*  Where  is  this  Spaniard  ?    Have  you  killed  him  ? ' 

'No,  father.  He  chanced  upon  me  in  Grubswell,  and 
when  he  learned  my  name  he  would  have  murdered  me.  But  I 


30  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

played  quarter  staff  with  him  and  beat  him  to  a  pulp,  taking 
his  sword.' 

'  Ay,  and  then  ?  ' 

'  And  then  I  let  him  go,  knowing  nothing  of  the  deed  he 
had  already  wrought  upon  our  mother.  Afterwards  I  will  tell 
you  all.' 

'  You  let  him  go,  son  !  You  let  Juan  de  Garcia  go  !  Then, 
Thomas,  may  the  curse  of  God  rest  upon  you  till  you  find 
him  and  finish  that  which  you  began  to-day.' 

'  Spare  to  curse  me,  father,  who  am  accursed  by  my 
own  conscience.  Turn  your  horses  rather  and  ride  for  Yar- 
mouth, for  there  his  ship  lies  and  thither  he  has  gone  with 
two  hours'  start.  Perhaps  you  may  still  trap  him  before  he 
eets  sail.' 

Without  another  word  my  father  and  brother  wheeled 
their  horses  round  and  departed  at  full  gallop  into  the  gloom 
of  the  gathering  night. 

They  rode  so  fiercely  that,  their  horses  being  good,  they 
came  to  the  gates  of  Yarmouth  in  little  more  than  an  hour 
and  a  half,  and  that  is  fast  riding.  But  the  bird  was  flown. 
They  tracked  him  to  the  quay  and  found  that  he  had  shipped 
a  while  before  in  a  boat  which  was  in  waiting  for  him,  and 
passed  to  his  vessel  that  lay  in  the  Eoads  at  anchor  but  with 
the  most  of  her  canvas  set.'  Instantly  she  sailed,  and  now 
was  lost  in  the  night.  Then  my  father  caused  notice  to  be 
given  that  he  would  pay  reward  of  two  hundred  pieces  in 
gold  to  any  ship  that  should  capture  the  Spaniard,  and  two 
started  on  the  quest,  but  they  did  not  find  her  that  before 
morning  was  far  on  her  way  across  the  sea. 

So  soon  as  they  had  galloped  away  I  called  together  the 
grooms  and  other  serving  men  and  told  them  what  had 
chanced.  Then  we  went  with  lanterns,  for  by  now  it  was 
dark,  and  came  to  the  thick  brushwood  where  lay  the  body  of 
my  mother.  I  drew  near  the  first,  for  the  men  were  afraid, 
and  so  indeed  was  I,  though  why  I  should  fear  her  lying  dead 
who  living  had  loved  me  tenderly,  I  do  not  know.  Yet  I  know 
this,  that  when  I  came  to  the  spot  and  saw  two  eyes  glowering 
at  me  and  heard  the  crash  of  bushes  as  something  broke  them, 
I  could  almost  have  fallen  with  fear,  although  I  knew  well 
that  it  was  but  a  fox  or  wandering:  hound  haunting  the  place 
of  death. 

Still  I  went  on,  calling  the  others  to  follow,  and  the  end  of 
it  was  that  we  laid  my  mother's  body  upon  a  door  which  had 
been  lifted  from  its  hinges,  and  bore  her  home  for  the  last 


There,  gleaming  whitely  in  the  gathering  twilight,  was  the  dead  face 
of  my  mother. 


THOMAS  SWEARS  AN  OATH  31 

time.  And  to  me  that  path  is  still  a  haunted  place.  It  is 
seventy  years  and  more  since  my  mother  died  by  tne  hand  of 
Juan  de  Garcia  her  cousin,  yet  old  as  I  am  and  hardened  to 
such  sad  scenes,  I  do  not  love  to  walk  that  path  alone  at  night. 

Doubtless  it  was  fancy  which  plays  us  strange  tricks,  still 
but  a  year  ago,  having  gone  to  set  a  springe  for  a  woodcock,  I 
chanced  to  pass  by  yonder  big  oak  upon  a  November  eve, 
and  I  could  have  sworn  that  I  saw  it  all  again.  I  saw  myself 
a  lad,  my  wounded  arm  still  bound  with  Lily's  kerchief, 
climbing  slowly  down  the  hill-side,  while  behind  me,  groaning 
beneath  their  burden,  were  the  forms  of  the  four  serving 
men.  I  heard  the  murmur  of  the  river  and  the  wind  that 
seventy  years  ago  whispered  in  the  reeds.  I  saw  the  clouded 
sky  flawed  here  and  there  with  blue,  and  the  broken  light 
that  gleamed  on  the  white  burden  stretched  upon  the  door, 
and  the  red  stain  at  its  breast.  Ay,  I  heard  myself  talk  as  I 
went  forward  with  the  lantern,  bidding  the  men  pass  to  the 
right  of  some  steep  and  rotten  ground,  and  it  was  strange  to 
me  to  listen  to  my  own  voice  as  it  had  been  in  youth.  Well, 
well,  it  was  but  a  dream,  yet  such  slaves  are  we  to  the  fears 
of  fancy,  that  because  of  the  dead,  I,  who  am  almost  of  their 
number,  do  not  love  to  pass  that  path  at  night. 

At  length  we  came  home  with  our  burden,  and  the  women 
took  it  weeping  and  set  about  their  task  with  it.  And  now  I 
must  not  only  fight  my  own  sorrows  but  must  strive  to  soothe 
those  of  my  sister  Mary,  who  as  I  feared  would  go  mad  with 
grief  and  horror.  At  last  she  sobbed  herself  into  a  torpor, 
and  I  went  and  questioned  the  men  who  sat  round  the  fire  in 
the  kitchen,  for  none  sought  their  beds  that  night.  From 
them  I  learned  that  an  hour  or  more  before  I  met  the  Spa- 
niard, a  richly-dressed  stranger  had  been  seen  walking  along 
the  church-path,  and  that  he  had  tied  his  horse  among  some 
gorse  and  brambles  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  where  he  stood  as 
though  in  doubt,  till  my  mother  came  out,  when  he  descended 
and  followed  her.  Also  I  learned  that  one  of  the  men  at 
work  in  the  garden,  which  is  not  more  than  three  hundred 
paces  from  where  the  deed  was  done,  heard  cries,  but  had 
taken  no  note  of  them,  thinking  forsooth  that  it  was  but  the 
play  of  some  lover  from  Bungay  and  his  lass  chasing  each 
other  through  the  woods,  as  to  this  hour  it  is  their  fashion  to 
do.  Truly  it  seemed  to  me  that  day  as  though  this  parish 
of  Ditchingham  were  the  very  nursery  of  fools,  of  whom 
I  was  the  first  and  biggest,  and  indeed  this  same  thought 
has  struck  me  since  concerning  other  matters. 


32  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

At  length  the  morning  came,  and  with  it  my  father  and 
brother,  who  returned  from  Yarmouth  on  hired  horses,  for  their 
own  were  spent.  In  the  afternoon  also  news  followed  them 
that  the  ships  which  had  put  to  sea  on  the  track  of  the  Spaniard 
had  been  driven  back  by  bad  weather,  having  seen  nothing  of 
him. 

Now  I  told  all  the  story  of  my  dealings  with  the 
murderer  of  my  mother,  keeping  nothing  back,  and  I  must 
bear  my  father's  bitter  anger  because  knowing  that  my 
mother  was  in  dread  of  a  Spaniard,  I  had  suffered  my 
reason  to  be  led  astray  by  my  desire  to  win  speech  with  my 
love.  Nor  did  I  meet  with  any  comfort  from  my  brother 
Geoffrey,  who  was  fierce  against  me  because  he  learned  that 
I  had  not  pleaded  in  vain  with  the  maid  whom  he  desired  for 
himself.  But  he  said  nothing  of  this  reason.  Also  that  no 
drop  might  be  lacking  in  my  cup,  Squire  Bozard,  who  came 
with  many  other  neighbours  to  view  the  corpse  and  offer 
sympathy  with  my  father  in  his  loss,  told  him  at  the  same 
time  that  he  took  it  ill  that  I  should  woo  his  daughter  against 
his  wish,  and  that  if  I  continued  in  this  course  it  would  strain 
their  ancient  friendship.  Thus  I  was  hit  on  every  side ;  by 
sorrow  for  my  mother  whom  I  had  loved  tenderly,  by  longing 
for  my  dear  whom  I  might  not  see,  by  self-reproach  because 
I  had  let  the  Spaniard  go  when  I  held  him  fast,  and  by  the 
anger  of  my  father  and  my  brother.  Indeed  those  days  were 
so  dark  and  bitter,  for  I  was  at  the  age  when  shame  and 
sorrow  sting  their  sharpest,  thafc  I  wished  that  I  were  dead 
beside  my  mother.  One  comfort  reached  me  indeed,  a  message 
from  Lily  sent  by  a  servant  girl  whom  she  trusted,  giving  me 
her  dear  love  and  bidding  me  to  be  of  good  cheer. 

At  length  came  the  day  of  burial,  and  my  mother,  wrapped 
in  fair  white  robes,  was  laid  to  her  rest  in  the  chancel  of  the 
church  at  Ditchingham,  where  my  father  has  long  been  set 
beside  her,  hard  by  the  brass  effigies  that  mark  the  burying 
place  of  Lily's  forefather,  his  wife,  and  many  of  their  children. 
This  funeral  was  the  saddest  of  sights,  for  the  bitterness  of 
my  father's  grief  broke  from  him  in  sobs  and  my  sister  Mary 
swooned  away  in  my  arms.  Indeed  there  were  few  dry  eyes 
in  all  that  church,  for  my  mother,  notwithstanding  her  foreign 
birth,  was  much  loved  because  of  her  gentle  ways  and  the 
goodness  of  her  heart.  But  it  came  to  an  end,  and  the  noble 
Spanish  lady  and  English  wife  was  left  to  her  long  sleep  in 
the  ancient  church,  where  she  shall  rest  on  when  her  tragic 
story  and  her  very  name  are  forgotten  among  men.  Indeed 


THOMAS   SWEARS  AN   OATH  33 

this  is  likely  to  be  soon,  for  I  am  the  last  of  the  Wingfields 
alive  in  these  parts,  though  my  sister  Mary  has  left  descend- 
ants of  another  name  to  whom  my  lands  and  fortune  go 
except  for  certain  gifts  to  the  poor  of  Bungay  and  of  Ditch- 
ingham. 

When  it  was  over  I  went  back  home.  My  father  was 
sitting  in  the  front  room  well  nigh  beside  himself  with  grief, 
and  by  him  was  my  brother.  Presently  he  began  to  assail  me 
with  bitter  words  because  I  had  let  the  murderer  go  when  God 
gave  him  into  my  hand. 

'  You  forget,  father,'  sneered  Geoffrey,  '  Thomas  woos  a 
maid,  and  it  was  more  to  him  to  hold  her  in  his  arms  than  to 
keep  his  mother's  murderer  safely.  But  by  this  it  seems  he 
has  killed  two  birds  with  one  stone,  he  has  suffered  the 
Spanish  devil  to  escape  when  he  knew  that  cur -mother  feared 
the  coming  of  a  Spaniard,  and  he  has  made  enmity  between 
us  and  Squire  Bozard,  our  good  neighbour,  who  strangely 
enough  does  not  favour  his  wooing.' 

1  It  is  so,'  said  my  father.  *  Thomas,  your  mother's  blood 
is  on  your  hands.' 

I  listened  and  could  bear  this  goading  injustice  no  longer. 

4  It  is  false,'  I  said,  *  I  say  it  even  to  my  father.  The  man 
had  killed  my  mother  before  I  met  him  riding  back  to  seek 
his  ship  at  Yarmouth  and  having  lost  his  way ;  how  then  is 
her  blood  upon  my  hands  ?  As  for  my  wooing  of  Lily  Bozard, 
that  is  my  matter,  brother,  and  not  yours,  though  perhaps  you 
wish  that  it  was  yours  and  not  mine.  Why,  father,  did  you 
not  tell  me  what  you  feared  of  this  Spaniard  ?  I  heard  some 
loose  talk  only  and  gave  little  thought  to  it,  my  mind  being 
full  of  other  things.  And  now  I  will  say  something.  You 
called  down  God's  curse  upon  me,  father,  till  such  time  as  I 
should  find  this  murderer  and  finish  what  I  had  begun.  So 
be  it !  Let  God's  curse  rest  upon  me  till  I  do  find  him.  I 
am  young,  but  I  am  quick  and  strong,  and  so  soon  as  may  be 
I  start  for  Spain  to  hunt  him  there  till  I  shall  run  him  down  or 
know  him  to  be  dead.  If  you  will  give  me  money  to  help  me 
on  my  quest,  so  be  it— if  not  I  go  without.  I  swear  before 
God  and  by  my  mother's  spirit  that  I  will  neither  rest  nor 
stay  till  with  the  very  sword  that  slew  her,  I  have  avenged  her 
blood  upon  her  murderer  or  know  him  dead,  and  if  I  suffer 
myself  to  be  led  astray  from  the  purpose  of  this  oath  by 
aught  that  is,  then  may  a  worse  end  than  hers  overtake 
me,  may  my  soul  be  rejected  in  heaven,  and  my  name  be 
shameful  for  ever  upon  the  earth  ! ' 

n 


34  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

Thus  I  swore  in  my  rage  and  anguish,  holding  up  my 
hand  to  heaven  that  I  called  upon  to  witness  the  oath. 

My  father  looked  at  me  keenly.  '  If  that  is  your  mind, 
son  Thomas,  you  shall  not  lack  for  money.  I  would  go 
myself,  for  blood  must  be  wiped  out  with  blood,  but  I  am  too 
broken  in  my  health ;  also  I  am  known  in  Spain  and  the 
Holy  Office  would  claim  me  there.  Go,  and  my  blessing  go 
with  you.  It  is  right  that  you  should  go,  for  it  is  through 
your  folly  that  our  enemy  has  escaped  us.' 

1  Yes,  it  is  right  that  he  should  go,'  said  Geoffrey. 

*  You  say  that  because  you  wish  to  be  rid  of  me,  Geoffrey,' 
I  answered  hotly,  *  and  you  would  be  rid  of  me  because  you 
desire  to  take  my  place  at  the  side  of  a  certain  maid.  Follow 
your  nature  and  do  as  you  will,  but  if  you  would  outwit  an 
absent  man  no  good  shall  come  to  you  of  it.' 

'  The  girl  is  to  him  who  can  win  her,'  he  said. 

'  The  girl's  heart  is  won  already,  Geoffrey.  You  may  buy 
her  from  her  father  but  you  can  never  win  her  heart,  and 
without  a  heart  she  will  be  but  a  poor  prize.' 

'  Peace  !  now  is  no  time  for  such  talk  of  love  and  maids/ 
said  my  father,  '  and  listen.  This  is  the  tale  of  the  Spanish 
murderer  and  your  mother.  I  have  said  nothing  of  it  hereto- 
fore, but  now  it  must  out.  When  I  was  a  lad  it  happened 
that  I  also  went  to  Spain  because  my  father  willed  it.  I  went 
to  a  monastery  at  Seville,  but  I  had  no  liking  for  monks  and 
their  ways,  and  I  broke  out  from  the  monastery.  For  a  year  or 
more  I  made  my  living  as  I  best  might,  for  I  feared  to  return 
to  England  as  a  runaway.  Still  I  made  a  living  and  not  a  bad 
one,  now  in  this  way  and  now  in  that,  but  though  I  am 
ashamed  to  say  it,  mostly  by  gaming,  at  which  I  had  great  luck. 
One  night  I  met  this  man  Juan  de  Garcia — for  in  his  hate  he 
gave  you  his  true  name  when  he  would  have  stabbed  you — at 
play.  Even  then  he  had  an  evil  fame,  though  he  was  scarcely 
more  than  a  lad,  but  he  was  handsome  in  person,  set  high  in 
birth,  and  of  a  pleasing  manner.  It  chanced  that  he  won  of  me 
at  the  dice,  and  being  in  a  good  humour,  he  took  me  to  visit  at 
the  house  of  his  aunt,  his  uncle's  widow,  a  lady  of  Seville.  This 
aunt  had  one  child,  a  daughter,  and  that  daughter  was  your 
mother.  Now  your  mother,  Luisa  de  Garcia,  was  affianced  to 
her  cousin  Juan  de  Garcia,  not  with  her  own  will  indeed,  for 
the  contract  had  been  signed  when  she  was  only  eight  years 
old.  Still  it  was  binding,  more  binding  indeed  than  in  this 
country,  being  a  marriage  in  all  except  in  fact.  But  those 
women  who  are  thus  bound  for  the  most  part  bear  nc 


THOMAS  SWEARS  AN  OATH  35 

wife's  love  in  their  hearts,  and  so  it  was  with  your  mother. 
Indeed  she  both  hated  and  feared  her  cousin  Juan,  though  I 
think  that  he  loved  her  more  than  anything  on  earth,  and  by 
one  pretext  and  another  she  contrived  to  bring  him  to  an 
agreement  that  no  marriage  should  be  celebrated  till  she  was 
full  twenty  years  of  age.  But  the  colder  she  was  to  him,  the 
more  was  he  inflamed  with  desire  to  win  her  and  also  her 
possessions,  which  were  not  small,  for  like  all  Spaniards  he 
was  passionate,  and  like  most  gamesters  and  men  of  evil  life, 
much  in  want  of  money. 

'  Now  to  be  brief,  from  the  first  moment  that  your  mother 
and  I  set  eyes  on  each  other  we  loved  one  another,  and  it  was 
our  one  desire  to  meet  as  often  as  might  be  ;  and  in  this  we 
had  no  great  difficulty,  for  her  mother  also  feared  and  hated 
Juan  de  Garcia,  her  nephew  by  marriage,  and  would  have 
seen  her  daughter  clear  of  him  if  possible.  The  end  of  it 
was  that  I  told  my  love,  and  a  plot  was  made  between  us  that 
we  should  fly  to  England.  But  all  this  had  not  escaped  the 
ears  of  Juan,  who  had  spies  in  the  household,  and  was  jealous 
and  revengeful  as  only  a  Spaniard  can  be.  First  he  tried  to 
be  rid  of  me  by  challenging  me  to  a  duel,  but  we  were  parted 
before  we  could  draw  swords.  Then  he  hired  bravos  to  murder 
me  as  I  walked  the  streets  at  night,  but  I  wore  a  chain  shirt 
beneath  my  doublet  and  their  daggers  broke  upon  it,  and  in 
place  of  being  slain  I  slew  one  of  them.  Twice  baffled,  de 
Garcia  was  not  defeated.  Fight  and  murder  had  failed,  but 
another  and  surer  means  remained.  I  know  not  how,  but  he 
had  won  some  clue  to  the  history  of  my  life,  and  of  how  I  had 
broken  out  from  the  monastery.  It  was  left  to  him,  therefore, 
to  denounce  me  to  the  Holy  Office  as  a  renegade  and  an  in- 
fidel, and  this  he  did  one  night ;  it  was  the  night  before  the 
day  when  we  should  have  taken  ship.  I  was  sitting  with  your 
mother  and  her  mother  in  their  house  at  Seville,  when  six 
cowled  men  entered  and  seized  me  without  a  word.  When  I 
prayed  to  know  their  purpose  they  gave  no  other  answer  than 
to  hold  a  crucifix  before  my  eyes.  Then  I  knew  why  I  was 
taken,  and  the  women  ceased  clinging  to  me  and  fell  back 
sobbing.  Secretly  and  silently  I  was  hurried  away  to  the 
dungeons  of  the  Holy  Office,  but  o  all  that  befell  me  there  I 
will  not  stop  to  tell. 

4  Twice  I  was  racked,  once  I  was  seared  with  hot  irons, 
thrice  I  was  flogged  with  wire  whips,  and  all  this  while  I  was 
fed  on  food  such  as  we  should  scarcely  offer  to  a  dog  here  in 
England.  At  length  my  offence  of  having  escaped  from  a 

D2 


36  'MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

monastery  and  sundry  blasphemies,  so-called,  being  proved 
against  me,  I  was  condemned  to  death  by  fire. 

'  Then  at  last,  when  after  a  long  year  of  torment  and  of 
horror,  I  had  abandoned  hope  and  resigned  myself  to  die,  help 
came.  On  the  eve  of  the  day  upon  which  I  was  to  be  con- 
sumed by  flame,  the  chief  of  my  tormentors  entered  the 
dungeon  where  I  lay  on  straw,  and  embracing  me  bade  me  bo 
of  good  cheer,  for  the  church  had  taken  pity  on  my  youth  and 
given  me  my  freedom.  At  first  I  laughed  wildly,  for  I  thought 
that  this  was  but  another  torment,  and  not  till  I  was  freed  of 
my  fetters,  clothed  in  decent  garments,  and  set  at  midnight 
without  the  prison  gates,  would  I  believe  that  so  good  a  thing 
had  befallen  me  through  the  hand  of  God.  I  stood  weak  and 
wondering  outside  the  gates,  not  knowing  where  to  fly,  and 
as  I  stood  a  woman  glided  up  to  me  wrapped  in  a  dark  cloak, 
who  whispered  "  Come."  That  woman  was  your  mother.  She 
had  learned  of  my  fate  from  the  boasting  of  de  Garcia  and 
set  herself  to  save  me.  Thrice  her  plans  failed,  but  at  length 
through  the  help  of  some  cunning  agent,  gold  won  what  was 
denied  to  justice  and  to  mercy,  and  my  life  and  liberty  were 
bought  with  a  very  great  sum. 

*  That  same  night  we  were  married  and  fled  for  Cadiz,  your 
mother  and  I,  but  not  her  mother,  who  was  bedridden  with  a 
sickness.  For  my  sake  your  beloved  mother  abandoned  her 
people,  what  remained  to  her  of  her  fortune  after  paying  the 
price  of  my  life,  and  her  country,  so  strong  is  the  love  of 
woman.  All  had  been  made  ready,  for  at  Cadiz  lay  an  English 
ship,  the  "Mary"  of  Bristol,  in  which  passage  was  taken 
for  us.  But  the  "  Mary  "  was  delayed  in  port  by  a  contrary 
wind  which  blew  so  strongly  that  notwithstanding  his  desire 
to  save  us,  her  master  dared  not  take  the  sea.  Two  days  and 
a  night  we  lay  in  the  harbour,  fearing  all  things  not  without 
cause,  and  yet  most  happy  in  each  other's  love.  Now  those, 
who  had  charge  of  me  in  the  dungeon  had  given  out  that  1 
had  escaped  by  the  help  of  my  master  the  Devil,  and  I  wa« 
searched  for  throughout  the  country  side.  De  Garcia  also, 
finding  that  his  cousin  and  affianced  wife  was  missing,  guessed 
that  we  two  were  not  far  apart.  It  was  his  cunning,  sharpened 
by  jealousy  and  hate,  that  dogged  us  down  step  by  step  till  at 
length  he  found  us. 

'  On  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  the  gale  having  abated, 
the  anchor  of  the  "  Mary  "  was  got  home  and  she  swung  out 
into  the  tideway.  As  she  came  round  and  while  the  seamen 
r/ere  making  ready  to  hoist  the  sails,  a  boat  carrying  soms 


THOMAS  SWEARS  AN  OATH  37 

twenty  soldiers,  and  followed  by  two  others,  shot  alongside  and 
summoned  the  captain  to  heave  to,  that  his  ship  might  be 
boarded  and  searched  under  warrant  from  the  Holy  Office.  It 
chanced  that  I  was  on  deck  at  the  time,  and  suddenly,  as  I  pre- 
pared to  hide  myself  below,  a  man,  in  whom  I  knew  de  Garcia 
himself,  stood  up  and  called  out  that  I  was  the  escaped  heretic 
whom  they  sought.  Fearing  lest  his  ship  should  be  boarded 
and  he  himself  thrown  into  prison  with  the  rest  of  his  crew, 
the  captain  would  then  have  surrendered  me.  But  I,  desperate 
with  fear,  tore  my  clothes  from  my  body  and  showed  the  cruel 
scars  that  marked  it. 

1 "  You  are  Englishmen,"  I  cried  to  the  sailors,  "  and  will 
you  deliver  me  to  these  foreign  devils,  who  am  of  your  blood  ? 
Look  at  their  handiwork,"  and  I  pointed  to  the  half -healed 
scars  left  by  the  red-hot  pincers  ;  "  if  you  give  me  up,  you  send 
me  back  to  more  of  this  torment  and  to  death  by  burning. 
Pity  my  wife  if  you  will  not  pity  me,  or  if  you  will  pity  neither, 
then  lend  me  a  sword  that  by  death  I  may  save  myself  from 
torture." 

'  Then  one  of  the  seamen,  a  Southwold  man  who  had  known 
my  father,  called  out :  "  By  God  !  I  for  one  will  stand  by  you, 
Thomas  Wingfield.  If  they  want  you  and  your  sweet  lady 
they  must  kill  me  first,"  and  seizing  a  bow  from  the  rack  he 
drew  it  out  of  its  case  and  strung  it,  and  setting  an  arrow  on 
the  string  he  pointed  it  at  the  Spaniards  in  the  boat. 

'  Then  the  others  broke  into  shouts  of : 

"'If  you  want  any  man  from  among  us,  come  aboard  and 
take  him,  you  torturing  devils,"  and  the  like. 

1  Seeing  where  the  heart  of  the  crew  lay,  the  captain  found 
courage  in  his  turn.  He  made  no  answer  to  the  Spaniards, 
but  bade  half  of  the  men  hoist  the  sails  with  all  speed,  and  the 
rest  make  ready  to  keep  off  the  soldiers  should  they  seek  to 
board  us. 

'  By  now  the  other  two  boats  had  come  up  and  fastened  on 
to  us  with  their  hooks.  One  man  climbed  into  the  chains  and 
thence  to  the  deck,  and  I  knew  him  for  a  priest  of  the  Holy 
Office,  one  of  those  who  had  stood  by  while  I  was  tormented. 
Then  I  grew  mad  at  the  thought  of  all  that  I  had  suffered, 
while  that  devil  watched,  bidding  them  lay  on  for  the  love  of 
God.  Snatching  the  bow  from  the  hand  of  the  Southwold 
seaman,  I  drew  the  arrow  to  its  head  and  loosed.  It  did  not 
miss  its  mark,  for  like  you,  Thomas,  I  was  skilled  with  the 
bow,  and  he  dived  back  into  the  sea  with  an  English  yard 
shaft  in  his  heart. 


38  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

i  After  that  they  tried  to  board  us  no  more,  though  they  shot 
at  us  with  arrows,  wounding  one  man.  The  captain  called  to 
us  to  lay  down  our  bows  and  take  cover  behind  the  bulwarks, 
for  by  now  the  sails  began  to  draw.  Then  de  Garcia  stood  up 
in  the  boat  and  cursed  me  and  my  wife. 

'  "  I  will  find  you  yet,"  he  screamed,  with  many  Spanish 
oaths  and  foul  words.  "  If  I  must  wait  for  twenty  years  I  will  be 
avenged  upon  you  and  all  you  love.  Be  assured  of  this,  Luisa 
de  Garcia,  hide  where  you  will,  I  shall  find  you,  and  when  we 
meet,  you  shall  come  with  me  for  so  long  as  I  will  keep  you 
or  that  shall  be  the  hour  of  your  death." 

'  Then  we  sailed  away  for  England,  and  the  boats  fell  astern. 

1  My  sons,  this  is  the  story  of  my  youth,  and  of  how  I  came 
to  wed  your  mother  whom  I  have  buried  to-day.  Juan  de 
Garcia  has  kept  his  word.' 

'  Yet  it  seems  strange,'  said  my  brother,  '  that  after  all 
these  years  he  should  have  murdered  her  thus,  whom  you  say 
he  loved.  Surely  even  the  evilest  of  men  had  shrunk  from 
such  a  deed  ! ' 

'  There  is  little  that  is  strange  about  it,'  answered  my  father. 
*  How  can  we  know  what  words  were  spoken  between  them 
before  he  stabbed  her  ?  Doubtless  he  told  of  some  of  them 
when  he  cried  to  Thomas  that  now  they  would  see  what  truth 
there  was  in  prophecies.  What  did  de  Garcia  swear  years 
since '? — that  she  should  come  with  him  or  he  would  kill  her. 
Your  mother  was  still  beautiful,  Geoffrey,  and  he  may  have 
given  her  choice  between  flight  and  death.  Seek  to  know  nc 
more,  son ' — and  suddenly  my  father  hid  his  face  in  his  hands 
and  broke  into  sobs  that  were  dreadful  to  hear. 

'  Would  that  you  had  told  us  this  tale  before,  father,'  1 
said  so  soon  as  I  could  speak.  '  Then  there  would  have  lived 
a  devil  the  less  in  the  world  to-day,  and  I  should  have  been 
spared  a  long  journey/ 

Little  did  I  know  how  long  that  journey  would  be  ! 


GOOD-BYE,   SWEETHEART  39 

CHAPTER   VI 

GOOD-BYE,   SWEETHEART 

WITHIN  twelve  days  of  the  burial  of  my  mother  and  the  tell- 
ing of  the  story  of  his  marriage  to  her  by  my  father,  I  was 
ready  to  start  upon  my  search.  As  it  chanced  a  vessel  was 
about  to  sail  from  Yarmouth  to  Cadiz.  She  was  named  the 
4  Adventuress,'  of  one  hundred  tons  burden,  and  carried  wool 
and  other  goods  outwards,  purposing  to  return  with  a  cargo 
of  wine  and  yew  staves  for  bows.  In  this  vessel  my  father 
bought  me  a  passage.  Moreover,  he  gave  me  fifty  pounds  in 
gold,  which  was  as  much  as  I  would  risk  upon  my  person, 
and  obtained  letters  from  the  Yarmouth  firm  of  merchants  to 
their  agents  in  Cadiz,  in  which  they  were  advised  to  advance 
me  such  sums  as  I  might  need  up  to  a  total  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  English  pounds,  and  further  to  assist  me  in  any  way 
that  was  possible. 

Now  the  ship  '  Adventuress '  was  to  sail  on  the  third  day  of 
June.  Already  it  was  the  first  of  that  month,  and  that  even- 
ing I  must  ride  to  Yarmouth,  whither  my  baggage  had  gone 
already.  Except  one  my  farewells  were  made,  and  yet  that 
was  the  one  I  most  wished  to  make.  Since  the  day  when  we 
had  sworn  our  troth  I  had  gained  no  sight  of  Lily  except  once 
at  my  mother's  burial,  and  then  we  had  not  spoken.  Now  it 
seemed  that  I  must  go  without  any  parting  word,  for  her 
father  had  sent  me  notice  that  if  I  came  near  the  Hall  his 
serving  men  had  orders  to  thrust  me  from  the  door,  and  this 
was  a  shame  that  I  would  not  risk.  Yet  it  was  hard  that 
I  must  go  upon  so  long  a  journey,  whence  it  well  might 
chance  I  should  not  return,  and  bid  her  no  good-bye.  In  my 
grief  and  perplexity  I  spoke  to  my  father,  telling  him  how  the 
matter  stood  and  asking  his  help. 

*I  go  hence,'  I  said,  'to  avenge  our  common  loss,  and  if 
need  be  to  give  my  life  for  the  honour  of  our  name.  Aid  me 
then  in  this.' 

'  My  neighbour  Bozard  means  his  daughter  for  your  brother 
Geoffrey,  and  not  for  you,  Thomas,'  he  answered ;  '  and  a 
man  may  do  what  he  wills  with  his  own.  Still  I  will  help 
you  if  I  can,  at  the  least  he  cannot  drive  me  from  his  door. 
Bid  them  bring  horses,  and  we  will  ride  to  the  Hall.' 

Within  the  half  of  an  hour  we  were  there,  and  my  father 


40  MONTEZVMA'S  DAUGHTER 

asked  for  speech  with  its  master.  The  serving  man  looked  at 
me  askance,  remembering  his  orders,  still  he  ushered  us  into 
the  justice  room  where  the  Squire  sat  drinking  ale. 

'  Good  morrow  to  you,  neighbour,'  said  the  Squire ;  *  you 
are  welcome  here,  but  you  bring  one  with  you  who  is  not 
welcome,  though  he  be  your  son.' 

1 1  bring  him  for  the  last  time,  friend  Bozard.  Listen  to 
his  request,  then  grant  it  or  refuse  it  as  you  will ;  but  if  you 
refuse  it,  it  will  not  bind  us  closer.  The  lad  rides  to-night  to 
take  ship  for  Spain  to  seek  that  man  who  murdered  his 
mother.  He  goes  of  his  own  free  will  because  after  the  doing 
of  the  deed  it  was  he  who  unwittingly  suffered  the  murderer 
to  escape,  and  it  is  well  that  he  should  go.' 

'  He  is  a  young  hound  to  run  such  a  quarry  to  earth,  and 
in  a  strange  country,'  said  the  Squire.  '  Still  I  like  his  spirit 
and  wish  him  well.  What  would  he  of  me  ?  ' 

'  Leave  to  bid  farewell  to  your  daughter.  I  know  that  his 
suit  does  not  please  you  and  cannot  wonder  at  it,  and  for  my 
own  part  I  think  it  too  early  for  him  to  set  his  fancy  in  the 
way  of  marriage.  But  if  he  would  see  the  maid  it  can  do  no 
harm,  for  such  harm  as  there  is  has  been  done  already.  Now 
for  your  answer." 

Squire  Bozard  thought  a  while,  then  said : 

4  The  lad  is  a  brave  lad  though  he  shall  be  no  son-in-law 
of  mine.  He  is  going  far,  and  mayhap  will  return  no  more, 
and  I  do  not  wish  that  he  should  think  unkindly  of  me  when  I 
am  dead.  Go  without,  Thomas  Wingfield,  and  stand  under 
yonder  beech — Lily  shall  join  you  there  and  you  may  speak 
with  her  for  the  half  of  an  hour — no  more.  See  to  it  that  you 
keep  within  sight  of  the  window.  Nay,  no  thanks  ;  go  before 
I  change  my  mind.' 

So  I  went  and  waited  under  the  beech  with  a  beating 
heart,  and  presently  Lily  glided  up  to  me,  a  more  welcome 
sight  to  my  eyes  than  any  angel  out  of  heaven.  And,  indeed, 
I  doubt  if  an  angel  could  have  been  more  fair  than  she,  or 
more  good  and  gentle. 

'  Oh  !  Thomas,'  she  whispered,  when  I  had  greeted  her, 
'  is  this  true  that  you  sail  oversea  to  seek  the  Spaniard  ?  ' 

'  I  sail  to  seek  the  Spaniard,  and  to  find  him  and  to  kill 
him  when  he  is  found.  It  was  to  come  to  you,  Lily,  that  I 
let  him  go,  now  I  must  let  you  go  to  come  to  him.  Nay,  do 
not  weep,  I  have  sworn  to  do  it,  and  were  I  to  break  my  oath 
I  should  be  dishonoured.' 

1  And  because  of  this  oath  of  yours  I  must  be  widowed, 


GOOD-BYE,  SWEETHEART  41 

Thomas,  before  I  am  a  wife  ?  You  go  and  I  shall  never  see 
you  more.' 

'  Who  can  say,  my  sweet  ?  My  father  went  over  seas  and 
came  back  safe,  having  passed  through  many  perils.' 

1  Yes,  he  came  back  and — not  alone.  You  are  young, 
Thomas,  and  in  far  countries  there  are  ladies  great  and  fair, 
and  how  shall  I  hold  my  own  in  your  heart  against  them,  I 
being  so  far  away  ?  ' 

' 1  swear  to  you,  Lily — 

'  Nay,  Thomas,  swear  no  oaths  lest  you  should  add  to  your 
sins  by  breaking  them.  Yet,  love,  forget  me  not,  who  shall 
forget  you  never.  Perhaps  —oh  !  it  wrings  my  heart  to  say 
it — this  is  our  last  meeting  on  the  earth.  If  so,  then  we 
must  hope  to  meet  in  heaven.  At  the  least  be  sure  of  this, 
while  I  live  I  will  be  true  to  you,  and  father  or  no  father,  I 
will  die  before  I  break  my  troth.  I  am  young  to  speak  so 
largely,  but  it  shall  ts  as  I  say.  Oh!  this  parting  is  more 
cruel  than  death.  Would  that  we  were  asleep  and  forgotten 
among  men.  Yet  it  is  best  that  you  should  go,  for  if  you 
stayed  what  could  we  be  to  each  other  while  my  father  lives, 
and  may  he  live  long ! ' 

*  Sleep  and  forgetfulness  will  come  soon  enough,  Lily ; 
none  must  await  them  for  very  long.  Meanwhile  we  have 
our  lives  to  live.  Let  us  pray  that  we  may  live  them  to  each 
other.  I  go  to  seek  fortune  as  well  as  foes,  and  I  will  win  it 
for  your  sake  that  we  may  marry.' 

{She  shook  her  head  sadly.  '  It  were  too  much  happiness, 
Thomas.  Men  and  women  may  seldom  wed  their  true  loves, 
or  if  they  do,  it  is  but  to  lose  them.  At  the  least  we  love,  and 
let  us  be  thankful  that  we  have  learned  what  love  can  be,  for 
having  loved  here,  perchance  at  the  worst  we  may  love  other- 
where when  there  are  none  to  say  us  nay.' 

Then  we  talked  on  awhile,  babbling  broken  words  of  love 
and  hope  and  sorrow,  as  young  folks  so  placed  are  wont  to 
do,  till  at  length  Lily  looked  up  with  a  sad  sweet  smile  and 
sai«l : 

1  It  is  time  to  go,  sweetheart.  My  father  beckons  me  from 
the  lattice.  All  is  finished.' 

'  Let  us  go  then,'  I  answered  huskily,  and  drew  her  behind 
the  trunk  of  the  old  beech.  And  there  I  caught  her  in  my 
arms  and  kissed  her  again  and  yet  again,  nor  was  she  ashamed 
to  kiss  me  back. 

After  this  I  remember  little  of  what  happened,  except 
that  as  we  rode  away  I  saw  her  beloved  face,  wan  and  wistful, 


42  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

watching  me  departing  out  of  her  life.  For  twenty  years  that 
sad  and  beautiful  face  haunted  me,  and  it  haunts  me  yet 
athwart  life  and  death.  Other  women  have  loved  me  and  I 
have  known  other  partings,  some  of  them  more  terrible,  but 
the  memory  of  this  woman  as  she  was  then,  and  of  her 
farewell  look,  overruns  them  all.  Whenever  I  gaze  down  the 
past  I  see  this  picture  framed  in  it  and  I  know  that  it  is  one 
which  cannot  fade.  Are  there  any  sorrows  like  these  sorrows 
of  our  youth  ?  Can  any  bitterness  equal  the  bitterness  of 
such  good-byes  ?  I  know  but  one  of  which  I  was  fated  to 
taste  in  after  years,  and  that  shall  be  told  of  in  its  place.  It 
is  a  common  jest  to  mock  at  early  love,  but  if  it  be  real,  if  it 
be  something  more  than  the  mere  arising  of  the  passions, 
early  love  is  late  love  also ;  it  is  love  for  ever,  the  best  and 
worst  event  which  can  befall  a  man  or  woman.  I  say  it  who 
am  old  and  who  have  done  with  everything,  and  it  is  true. 
One  thing  I  have  forgotten.  As  we  kissed  and  clung  in 
our  despair  behind  the  bole  of  the  great  beech,  Lily  drew  a  ring 
from  her  finger  and  pressed  it  into  my  hand  saying,  '  Look  on 
this  each  morning  when  you  wake,  and  think  of  me.'  It  had 
been  her  mother's,  and  to-day  it  still  is  set  upon  my  withered 
hand,  gleaming  in  the  winter  sunlight  as  I  trace  these  words. 
Through  the  long  years  of  wild  adventure,  through  all  the  time 
of  after  peace,  in  love  and  war,  in  the  shine  of  the  camp  fire, 
in  the  glare  of  the  sacrificial  flame,  in  the  light  of  lonely  stars 
illumining  the  lonely  wilderness,  that  ring  has  shone  upon 
my  hand,  reminding  me  always  of  her  who  gave  it,  and  on 
this  hand  it  shall  go  down  into  the  grave.  It  is  a  plain 
circlet  of  thick  gold,  somewhat  worn  now,  a  posy-ring,  and  on 
its  inner  surface  is  cut  this  quaint  couplet : 

Heart  to  heart, 
Though  far  apart. 

A  fitting  motto  for  us  indeed,  and  one  that  has  its  meaning  to 
this  hour. 

That  same  day  of  our  farewell  I  rode  with  my  father  to 
Yarmouth.  My  brother  Geoifrey  did  not  come  with  us,  but 
we  parted  with  kindly  words,  and  of  this  I  am. glad,  for  we 
never  saw  each  other  again.  No  more  was  said  between  us 
as  to  Lily  Bozard  and  our  wooing  of  her,  though  I  knew  well 
enough  that  so  soon  as  my  back  was  turned  he  would  try  to 
take  my  place  at  her  side,  as  indeed  happened.  I  forgive  it 
to  him  ;  in  truth  I  cannot  blame  him  much,  for  what  man  is 


GOOD-BYE,   SWEETHEART  43 

there  that  would  not  have  desired  to  wed  Lily  who  knew  her  ? 
Once  we  were  dear  friends,  Geoffrey  and  I,  but  when  we 
ripened  towards  manhood,  our  love  of  Lily  came  between  us, 
and  we  grew  more  and  more  apart.  It  is  a  common  case 
enough.  Well,  as  it  chanced  he  failed,  so  why  should  I  think 
unkindly  of  him  ?  Let  me  rather  remember  the  affection  of 
our  childhood  and  forget  the  rest.  God  rest  his  soul. 

Mary,  my  sister,  who  after  Lily  Bozard  was  now  the 
fairest  maiden  in  the  country  side,  wept  much  at  my  going. 
There  was  but  a  year  between  us,  and  we  loved  each  other 
dearly,  for  no  such  shadow  of  jealousy  had  fallen  on  our 
affection.  I  comforted  her  as  well  as  I  was  able,  and  telling 
her  all  that  had  passed  between  me  and  Lily,  I  prayed  her  to 
stand  my  friend  and  Lily's,  should  it  ever  be  in  her  power  to 
do  so.  This  Mary  promised  to  do  readily  enough,  and  though 
she  did  not  give  the  reason,  I  could  see  that  she  thought  it 
possible  that  she  might  be  able  to  help  us.  As  I  have  said, 
Lily  had  a  brother,  a  young  man  of  some  promise,  who  at 
this  time  was  away  at  college,  and  he  and  my  sister  Mary 
had  a  strong  fancy  for  each  other,  that  might  or  might  not 
ripen  into  something  closer.  So  we  kissed  and  bade  farewell 
with  tears. 

And  after  that  my  father  and  I  rode  away.  But  when  we 
had  passed  down  Pirnhow  Street,  and  mounted  the  little  hill 
beyond  Waingford  Mills  to  the  left  of  Bungay  town,  I  halted 
my  horse,  and  looked  back  upon  the  pleasant  valley  of  the 
Waveney  where  I  was  born,  and  my  heart  grew  full  to 
bursting.  Had  I  known  all  that  must  befall  me,  before  my 
eyes  beheld  that  scene  again,  I  think  indeed  that  it  would 
have  burst.  But  God,  who  in  his  wisdom  has  laid  many  a 
burden  upon  the  backs  of  men,  has  saved  them  from  this  ;  for 
had  we  foreknowledge  of  the  future,  I  think  that  of  our  own 
will  but  few  of  us  would  live  to  see  it.  So  I  cast  one  long 
last  look  towards  the  distant  mass  of  oaks  that  marked  the 
spot  where  Lily  lived,  and  rode  on. 

On  the  following  day  I  embarked  on  board  the  '  Adven- 
turess '  and  we  sailed.  Before  I  left,  my  father's  heart  sof- 
tened much  towards  me,  for  he  remembered  that  I  was  my 
mother's  best  beloved,  and  feared  also  lest  we  should  meet  no 
more.  So  much  did  it  soften  indeed,  that  at  the  last  hour  he 
changed  his  mind  and  wished  to  hold  me  back  from  going. 
But  having  put  my  hand  to  the  plough  and  suffered  all  the 
bitterness  of  farewell,  I  would  not  return  to  be  mocked  by  my 
brother  and  my  neighbours.  *  You  speak  too  late,  father,'  I 


44  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

said.  '  You  desired  me  to  go  to  work  this  vengeance  anc 
stirred  me  to  it  with  many  bitter  words,  and  now  I  would  g( 
if  I  knew  that  I  must  die  within  a  week,  for  such  oathi 
cannot  be  lightly  broken,  and  till  mine  is  fulfilled  the  curs< 
rests  on  me.' 

'  So  be  it,  son,'  he  answered  with  a  sigh.  '  Your  mother's 
cruel  death  maddened  me  and  I  said  what  I  may  live  to  b( 
sorry  for,  though  at  the  best  I  shall  not  live  long,  for  nr 
heart  is  broken.  Perhaps  I  should  have  remembered  tha 
vengeance  is  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  who  wreaks  it  at  Hii 
own  time  and  without  our  help.  Do  not  think  unkindly  of  me 
my  boy,  if  we  should  chance  to  meet  no  more,  for  I  love  you 
and  it  was  but  the  deeper  love  that  I  bore  to  your  mothe: 
which  made  me  deal  harshly  with  you.' 

'  I  know  it,  father,  and  bear  no  grudge.     But  if  you  thinl 
that  you  owe  me  anything,  pay  it  by  holding  back  my  brothe  • 
from   working  wrong  to  me  and   Lily  Bozard  while  I  ant 
absent.' 

'  I  will  do  my  best,  son,  though  were  it  not  that  you  and 
she  have  grown  so  dear  to  each  other,  the  match  would  havu 
pleased  me  well.  But  as  I  have  said,  I  shall  not  be  long  her*  -, 
to  watch  your  welfare  in  this  or  any  other  matter,  and  wher 
I  am  gone  things  must  follow  their  own  fate.  Do  not  forge ', 
your  God  or  your  home  wherever  you  chance  to  wandei, 
Thomas  :  keep  yourself  from  brawling,  beware  of  women 
that  are  the  snare  of  youth,  and  set  a  watch  upon  you.1 
tongue  and  your  temper  which  is  not  of  the  best.  Moreover, 
wherever  you  may  be  do  not  speak  ill  of  the  religion  of  tho 
land,  or  make  a  mock  of  it  by  your  way  of  life,  lest  you  should 
learn  how  cruel  men  can  be  when  they  think  that  it  is  pleasing 
to  their  gods,  as  I  have  learnt  already.' 

I  said  that  I  would  bear  his  counsel  in  mind,  and  indeed 
it  saved  me  from  many  a  sorrow.  Then  he  embraced  mo 
and  called  on  the  Almighty  to  take  me  in  His  care,  and  we 
parted. 

I  never  saw  him  more,  for  though  he  was  but  middle-aged, 
within  a  year  of  my  going  my  father  died  suddenly  of  a  dis- 
temper of  the  heart  in  the  nave  of  Ditchingham  church,  a  3 
he  stood  there,  near  the  rood  screen,  musing  by  my  mother's 
grave  one  Sunday  after  mass,  and  my  brother  took  his  lands 
and  place.  God  rest  him  also  !  He  was  a  true-hearted  man , 
but  more  wrapped  up  in  his  love  for  my  mother  than  it  is  well 
for  any  man  to  be  who  would  look  at  life  largely  and  do  right 
by  all.  For  such  love,  though  natural  to  women,  is  apt  to  turn 


GOOD-BYE,   SWEETHEART  45 

to  something  that  partakes  of  selfishness,  and  to  cause  him 
who  bears  it  to  think  all  else  of  small  account.  His  chil- 
dren were  nothing  to  my  father  when  compared  to  my 
mother,  and  he  would  have  been  content  to  lose  them  every 
one  if  thereby  he  might  have  purchased  back  her  life.  Biu 
after  all  it  was  a  noble  infirmity,  for  he  thought  little  of  him- 
self and  had  gone  through  much  to  win  her. 

Of  my  voyage  to  Cadiz,  to  which  port  I  had  learned  that 
de  Garcia's  ship  was  bound,  there  is  little  to  be  told.  We 
met  with  contrary  winds  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay  and  were 
driven  into  the  harbour  of  Lisbon,  where  we  refitted.  But  at 
last  we  came  safely  to  Cadiz,  having  been  forty  days  at  sea. 


CHAPTER  VII 

ANDRES   DE    FONSECA 

Now  I  shall  dwell  but  briefly  on  all  the  adventures  which  befell 
me  during  the  year  or  so  that  I  remained  in  Spain,  for  were  I 
to  set  out  everything  at  length,  this  history  would  have  no 
end,  or  at  least  mine  would  find  me  before  I  came  to  it. 

Many  travellers  have  told  of  the  glories  of  Seville,  to  which 
ancient  Moorish  city  I  journeyed  with  all  speed,  sailing 
there  up  the  Guadalquivir,  and  I  have  to  tell  of  lands  from 
which  no  other  wanderer  has  returned  to  England,  and  must 
press  on  to  them.  To  be  short  then  ;  foreseeing  that  it  might 
be  necessary  for  me  to  stop  some  time  in  Seville,  and  being 
desirous  to  escape  notice  and  to  be  at  the  smallest  expense 
possible,  I  bethought  me  that  it  would  be  well  if  I  could  find 
means  of  continuing  my  studies  of  medicine,  and  to  this  end 
I  obtained  certain  introductions  from  the  firm  of  merchants 
to  whose  care  I  had  been  recommended,  addressed  to  doctors 
of  medicine  in  Seville.  These  letters  at  my  request  were 
made  out  not  in  my  own  name  but  in  that  of  '  Diego 
d'Aila,'  for  I  did  not  wish  it  to  be  known  that  I  was  an 
Englishman.  Nor,  indeed,  was  this  likely,  except  my  speech 
should  betray  me,  for,  as  I  have  said,  in  appearance  I  was  very 
Spanish,  and  the  hindrance  of  the  language  was  one  that 
lessened  every  day,  since  having  already  learned  it  from  my 
mother,  and  taking  every  opportunity  to  read  and  speak  it, 
within  six  months  I  could  talk  Catitilian  except  for  some 


46  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

slight  accent,  like  a  native  of  the  land.     Also  I  have  a  gift  fo 
the  acquiring  of  languages. 

When  I  was  come  to  Seville,  and  had  placed  my  baggag 
in  an  inn,  not  one  of  the  most  frequented,  I  set  out  to  delive 
a  letter  of  recommendation  to  a  famous  physician  of  the  tow 
whose  name  I  have  long  forgotten.     This  physician  had  a  fin 
house  in  the  street  of  Las  Palmas,  a  great  avenue  plante 
with  graceful  trees,  that  has  other  little  streets  running  int  • 
it.     Down  one  of  these  I  came  from  my  inn,  a  quiet  narro\ 
place  having  houses- with  patios  or  courtyards  on  either  sid  • 
of  it.     As  I  walked  down  this  street  I  noticed  a  man  sitting  i:  L 
the  shade  on  a  stool  in  the  doorway  of  his  patio.     He  was  smal  I 
and  withered,  with  keen  black  eyes  and  a  wonderful  air  of  wis  - 
dom,  and  he  watched  me  as  I  went  by.     Now  the  house  of  th  ; 
famous  physician  whom  I  sought  was  so  placed  that  the  mai  i 
sitting  at  this  doorway  could  command  it  with  his  eyes  an*  I 
take  note  of  all  who  went  in  and   came  out.     When  I  ha  i 
found  the  house  I  returned  again  into  the  quiet  street  an  I 
walked  to  and  fro  there  for  a  while,  thinking  of  what  tale   L 
should  tell  to  the  physician,  and  all  the  time  the  little  ma:i 
watched  me  with  his  keen  eyes.     At  last  I  had  made  up  m  / 
story  and  went  to  the  house,  only  to  find  that  the  physiciai  i 
was  from  home.     Having  inquired  when  I  might  find  him   L 
left,  and  once  more  took  to  the  narrow  street,  walking  slow!  * 
till  I  came  to  where  the  little  man  sat.     As  I  passed  him,  hi} 
broad  hat  with  which  he  was  fanning  himself  slipped  to  th  3 
ground  before  my  feet.     I  stooped  down,  lifted  it  from  th  ) 
pavement,  and  restored  it  to  him. 

'  A  thousand  thanks,  young  sir,'  he  said  in  a  full  and 
gentle  voice.  '  You  are  courteous  for  a  foreigner.' 

'  How  do  you  know  me  to  be  a  foreigner,  seilor  ?  '  I  asked, 
surprised  out  of  my  caution. 

'  If  I  had  not  guessed  it  before,  I  should  know  it  now,'  ho 
answered,  smiling  gravely.  *  Your  Castilian  tells  its  own  tale.' 

I  bowed,  and  was  about  to  pass  on,  when  he  addressed  mo 
again. 

'What  is  your  hurry,  young  sir  ?  Step  in  and  take  a  cup 
of  wine  with  me  ;  it  is  good.' 

I  was  about  to  say  him  nay,  when  it  came  into  my  mind 
that  I  had  nothing  to  do,  and  that  perhaps  I  might  learn 
something  from  this  gossip. 

1  The  day  is  hot,  senor,  and  I  accept.' 

He  spoke  no  more,  but  rising,  led  me  into  a  courtyard 
paved  with  marble  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  basin  o : 


ANDRES  DE  FONSECA  47 

water,  having  vines  trained  around  it.  Here  were  chairs  and 
a  little  table  placed  in  the  shade  of  the  vines.  When  he  had 
closed  the  door  of  the  patio  and  we  were  seated,  he  rang  a  silver 
bell  that  stood  upon  the  table,  and  a  girl,  young  and  fair, 
appeared  from  the  house,  dressed  in  a  quaint  Spanish  dress. 

'  Bring  wine,'  said  my  host. 

The  wine  was  brought,  white  wine  of  Oporto  such  as  I  had 
never  tasted  before. 

4  Your  health,  seiior  ? ' — And  my  host  stopped,  his  glass  in 
his  hand,  and  looked  at  me  inquiringly. 

I  Diego  d'Aila,'  I  answered. 

*  Humph,'   he   said.     '  A  Spanish  name,  or  perhaps  an 
imitation  Spanish  name,  for  I  do  not  know  it,  and  I  have  a 
good  head  for  names.' 

*  That  is  my  name,  to  take  or  to  leave,  senor  ?  ' — And  I 
looked  at  him  in  turn. 

'  Andres  de  Fonseca,'  he  replied  bowing,  '  a  physician  of 
this  city,  well  known  enough,  especially  among  the  fair. 
Well,  Seiior  Diego,  I  take  your  name,  for  names  are  no- 
thing, and  at  times  it  is  convenient  to  change  them,  which  is 
nobody's  business  except  their  owners'.  I  see  that  you  are  a 
stranger  in  this  city — no  need  to  look  surprised,  senor,  one 
who  is  familiar  with  a  town  does  not  gaze  and  stare  and  ask 
the  path  of  passers-by,  nor  does  a  native  of  Seville  walk  on 
the  sunny  side  of  the  street  in  summer.  And  now,  if  you  will 
not  think  me  impertinent,  I  will  ask  you  what  can  be  the 
business  of  so  healthy  a  young  man  with  my  rival  yonder  ?  ' 
And  he  nodded  towards  the  house  of  the  famous  physician. 

'  A  man's  business,  like  his  name,  is  his  own  affair,  seiior/ 
I  answered,  setting  my  host  down  in  my  mind  as  one  of  those 
who  disgrace  our  art  by  plying  openly  for  patients  that  they 
may  capture  their  fees.  *  Still,  I  will  tell  you.  I  am  also  a 
physician,  though  not  yet  fully  qualified,  and  I  seek  a  place 
where  I  may  help  some  doctor  of  repute  in  his  daily  practice, 
and  thus  gain  experience  and  my  living  with  it.' 

'  Ah !  is  it  so  ?  Well,  senor,  then  you  will  look  in  vain 
yonder/  and  again  he  nodded  towards  the  physician's  house. 
'  Such  as  he  will  take  no  apprentice  without  the  fee  be  large 
indeed  ;  it  is  not  the  custom  of  this  city.' 

'  Then  I  must  seek  a  livelihood  elsewhere,  or  otherwise.' 

I 1  did  not  say  so.     Now,  senor,  let  us  see  what  you  know 
of  medicine,  and  what  is  more  important,  of  human  nature, 
for  of  the  first  none  of  us  can  ever  know  much,  but  he  who 
knows  the  latter  will  be  a  leader  of  men — or  of  women — who 
lead  the  men.' 


48  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

And  without  more  ado  he  put  me  many  questions,  each  oi 
them  so  shrewd  and  going  so  directly  to  the  heart  of  the 
matter  in  hand,  that  I  marvelled  at  his  sagacity.  Some  ol 
these  questions  were  medical,  dealing  chiefly  with  the  ailments 
of  women,  others  were  general  and  dealt  more  with  theii 
characters.  At  length  he  finished. 

'  You  will  do,  seiior/  he  said ;  *  you  are  a  young  man  oi 
parts  and  promise,  though,  as  was  to  be  expected  from  one  o: 
your  years,  you  lack  experience.  There  is  stuff  in  you,  seiior 
and  you  have  a  heart,  which  is  a  good  thing,  for  the  blunders  o: 
a  man  with  a  heart  often  carry  him  further  than  the  cunning 
of  the  cynic ;  also  you  have  a  will  and  know  how  to  direct  it. 

I  bowed,  and  did  my  best  to  hold  back  my  satisfaction  a 
his  words  from  showing  in  my  face. 

I  Still,' he  went  on, '  all  this  would  not  cause  me  to  submi 
to  you  the  offer  that  I  am  about  to  make,  for  many  a  prettie  • 
fellow  than   yourself  is  after  all   unlucky,  or  a  fool  at  tins 
bottom,  or  bad  tempered  and  destined  to  the  dogs,  as  for  augh , 
I  know  you  may  be  also.    But  I  take  my  chance  of  that  be  - 
cause  you  suit  me  in  another  way.    Perhaps  you  may  scarce!1  - 
.know  it  yourself,  but  you  have  beauty,  seiior,  beauty  of  aver- 
rare  and  singular  type,  which  half  the  ladies  of  Seville  will 
praise  when  they  come  to  know  you.' 

' I  am  much  flattered,'  I  said,  'but  might  I  ask  what  all 
these  compliments  may  mean  ?  To  be  brief,  what  is  you  : 
offer  ?  ' 

*  To  be  brief  then,  it  is  this.    I  am  in  need  of  an  assistant 
who  must  possess  all  the  qualities  that  I  see  in  you,  but  most 
of  all  one  which  I  can  only  guess  you  to  possess — discretion . 
That  assistant  would  not  be  ill-paid  ;  this  house  would  be  a  t 
his  disposal,  and  he  would  have  opportunities  of  learning  the 
world  such  as  are  given  to  few.     What  say  you  ?  ' 

I 1  say  this,  seiior,  that  I  should  wish  to  know  more  of  the 
business  in  which  I  am  expected  to  assist.     Your  offers  sound 
too  liberal,  and  I  fear  that  I  must  earn  your  bounty  by  the 
doing  of  [  work  that  honest  men  might  shrink  from.' 

*  A  fair  argument,  but,  as  it  happens,  not  quite  a  correct  ono. 
Listen  :  .you   have  been  told  that  yonder  physician,  to  whose 
house  you  went  but  now,  and  these  ' — here  he  repeated  four 
or  five  names—'  are  the  greatest  of  their  tribe  in  Seville.     It 
is  not  so.     I  am  the  greatest  and  the  richest,  and  I  do  more 
business  than  any  two  of   them.     Do  you   know  what   my 
earnings  have  been  this  day  alone  ?     I  will  tell  you  ;  just  ovor 


The  wine  "was  "brought 


ANDRES  DE  FONSECA  49 

twenty-five  gold  pesos,1  more  than  all  the  rest  of  the  profession 
have  taken  together,  I  will  wager.  You  want  to  know  how  I 
earn  so  much  ;  you  want  to  know  also,  why,  if  I  have  earned  so 
much,  I  am  not  content  to  rest  from  my  labours.  Good,  I  will 
tell  you.  I  earn  it  by  ministering  to  the  vanities  of  women 
and  sheltering  them  from  the  results  of  their  own  folly.  Has 
a  lady  a  sore  heart,  she  comes  to  me  for  comfort  and  advice. 
Has  she  pimples  on  her  face,  she  flies  to  me  to  cure  them. 
Has  she  a  secret  love  affair,  it  is  I  who  hide  her  indiscretion ; 
I  consult  the  future  for  her,  I  help  her  to  atone  the  past,  I 
doctor  her  for  imaginary  ailments,  and  often  enough  I  cure  her 
of  real  ones.  Half  the  secrets  of  Seville  are  in  my  hands ; 
did  I  choose  to  speak  I  could  set  a  score  of  noble  nouses  to 
broil  and  bloodshed.  But  I  do  not  speak,  I  am  paid  to  keep 
silent ;  and  when  I  am  not  paid,  still  I  keep  silent  for  my 
credit's  sake.  Hundreds  of  women  think  me  their  saviour,  I 
know  them  for  my  dupes.  But  mark  you,  I  do  not  push  this 
game  too  far.  A  love  philtre — of  coloured  water — I  may  give 
at  a  price,  but  not  a  poisoned  rose.  These  they  must  seek 
elsewhere.  For  the  rest,  in  my  way  I  am  honest.  I  take  the 
world  as  it  comes,  that  is  all,  and,  as  women  will  be  fools,  I 
profit  by  their  folly  and  have  grown  rich  upon  it. 

*  Yes,  I  have  grown  rich,  and  yet  I  cannot  stop.     I  love 
the  money  that  is  power ;  but  more  than  all,  I  love  the  way 
of  life.     Talk  of  romances  and  adventure  !     What  romance 
or  adventure  is  half  so  wonderful  as  those  that  come  daily  to 
my  notice  ?   And  I  play  a  part  in  every  one  of  them,  and  none 
the  less  a  leading  part  because  I  do  not  shout  and  strut  upon 
the  boards.' 

*  If  all  this  is  so,  why  do  you  seek  the  help  of  an  unknown 
lad,   a    stranger  of  whom   you   know    nothing  ? '     I   asked 
bluntly. 

1  Truly,  you  lack  experience,'  the  old  man,  answered  with 
a  laugh.  '  Do  you  then  suppose  that  I  should  choose  one  who 
was  not  a  stranger — one  who  might  have  ties  within  this  city 
with  which  I  was  unacquainted.  And  as  for  knowing  nothing 
of  you,  young  man,  do  you  think  that  I  have  followed  this 
strange  trade  of  mine  for  forty  years  without  learning  to  judge 
at  sight  ?  Perhaps  I  know  you  better  than  you  know  yourself. 
By  the  way,  the  fact  that  you  are  deeply  enamoured  of  that 
maid  whom  you  have  left  in  England  is  a  recommendation 
to  rne,  for  whatever  follies  you  may  commit,  you  will  scarcely 

1  About  sixty-three  pounds  sterling. 


50  MONTEZUMA*S  DAUGHTER 

embarrass  me  and  yourself  by  suffering  your  affections  to  be 
seriously  entangled.     Ah  !  have  I  astonished  you  ?  ' 
'  How  do  you  know  ?  '  I  began — then  ceased. 

*  How  do  I  know  ?  Why,  easily  enough.    Those  boots  you 
wear  were  made  in  England.     I  have  seen  many  such  when 
I  travelled  there ;  your  accent  also  though  faint  is  English, 
and  twice  you  have  spoken  English  words  when  your  Castilian 
failed  you.     Then  for  the  maid,  is  not  that  a  betrothal  ring 
upon  your  hand  ?     And  when  I  spoke  to  you  of  the  ladies  of 
this  country,  my  talk  did  not  interest  you  overmuch,  as  at 
your  age  it  had  done  were  you  heart-whole.     Surely  also  the 
lady  is  fair  and  tall  ?    Ah  !  I  thought  so.     I  have  noticed  that 
men  and  women  love  their  opposite  in  colour,  no  invariable 
rule  indeed,  but  good  for  a  guess.' 

*  You  are  very  clever,  sefior.' 

'  No,  not  clever,  but  trained,  as  you  will  be  when  you  have 
been  a  year  in  my  hands,  though  perchance  you  do  not  intend 
to  stop  so  long  in  Seville.  Perhaps  you  came  here  with  an 
object,  and  wish  to  pass  the  time  profitably  till  it  is  fulfilled. 
A  good  guess  again,  I  think.  Well,  so  be  it,  I  will  risk  that ; 
object  and  attainment  are  often  far  apart.  Do  you  take  my 
oiler  ? ' 

'  I  incline  to  do  so.' 

'  Then  you  will  take  it.  Now  I  have  something  more  to 
say  before  we  come  to  terms.  I  do  not  want  you  to  play  the 
part  of  an  apothecary's  drudge.  You  will  figure  before  the 
world  as  my  nephew,  come  from  abroad  to  learn  my  trade. 
You  will  help  me  in  it  indeed,  but  that  is  not  all  your  duty. 
Your  part  will  be  to  mix  in  the  life  of  Seville,  and  to  watch 
those  whom  I  bid  you  watch,  to  drop  a  word  here  and  a 
hint  there,  and  in  a  hundred  ways  that  I  shall  show  you  tc 
draw  grist  to  my  mill — and  to  your  own.  You  must  be 
brilliant  and  witty,  or  sad  and  learned,  as  1  wish  ;  you  must 
make  the  most  of  your  person  and  your  talents,  for  these! 
go  far  with  my  customers.  To  the  hidalgo  you  must  talk 
of  arms,  to  the  lady,  of  love ;  but  you  must  never  commit 
yourself  beyond  redemption.  And  above  all,  young  man  '- 
and  here  his  manner  changed  and  his  face  grew  stern  and 
almost  fierce — '  you  must  never  violate  my  confidence  or  the 
confidence  of  my  clients.  On  this  point  I  will  be  quite  open 
with  you,  and  I  pray  you  for  your  own  sake  to  believe  what  1 
say,  however  much  you  may  mistrust  the  rest.  If  you  break 
faith  with  me,  you  die.  You  die,  not  by  my  hand,  but  you 
die.  That  is  my  price ;  take  it  or  leave  it.  Should  you  leavo 


ANDRES  DE  FONSECA  51 

it  and  go  hence  to  tell  what  you  have  heard  this  day,  even 
then  misfortune  may  overtake  you  suddenly.  Do  you  under- 
stand ? ' 

'I  understand.  For  my  own  sake  I  will  respect  your 
confidence.' 

'  Young  sir,  I  like  you  better  than  ever.  Had  you  said 
that  you  would  respect  it  because  it  was  a  confidence,  I  should 
have  mistrusted  you,  for  doubtless  you  feel  that  secrets  com- 
municated so  readily  have  no  claim  to  be  held  sacred.  Nor 
have  they,  but  when  their  violation  involves  the  sad  and 
accidental  end  of  the  violator,  it  is  another  matter.  Well 
now,  do  you  accept  ?  ' 

'I  accept.' 

'  Good.  Your  baggage  I  suppose  is  at  the  inn.  I  will  send 
porters  to  discharge  your  score  and  bring  it  here.  No  need  for 
you  to  go,  nephew,  let  us  stop  and  drink  another  glass  of  wine  ; 
the  sooner  we  grow  intimate  the  better,  nephew.' 

It  was  thus  that  first  I  became  acquainted  with  Seiior 
Andres  de  Fonseca,  my  benefactor,  the  strangest  man  whom 
I  have  ever  known.  Doubtless  any  person  reading  this 
history  would  think  that  I,  the  narrator,  was  sowing  a  plen- 
tiful crop  of  troubles  for  myself  in  having  to  deal  with  him, 
setting  him  down  as  a  rogue  of  the  deepest,  such  as  sometimes, 
for  their  own  wicked  purposes,  decoy  young  men  to  crime  and 
ruin.  But  it  was  not  so,  and  this  is  the  strangest  part  of  the 
strange  story.  All  that  Andres  de  Fonseca  told  me  was  true 
to  the  very  letter. 

He  was  a  gentleman  of  great  talent  who  had  been  rendered 
a  little  mad  by  misfortunes  in  his  early  life.  As  a  physician 
I  have  never  met  his  master,  if  indeed  he  has  one  in  these 
times,  and  as  a  man  versed  in  the  world  and  more  especially 
in  the  world  of  women,  I  have  known  none  to  compare  with 
him.  He  had  travelled  far,  and  seen  much,  and  he  forgot 
nothing.  In  part  he  was  a  quack,  but  his  quackery  always 
had  a  meaning  in  it.  He  fleeced  the  foolish,  indeed,  and  even 
juggled  with  astronomy,  making  money  out  of  their  supersti- 
tion ;  but  on  the  other  hand  he  did  many  a  kind  act  without 
reward.  He  would  make  a  rich  lady  pay  ten  gold  pesos  for 
the  dyeing  of  her  hair,  but  often  he  would  nurse  some  poor 
girl  through  her  trouble  and  ask  no  charge ;  yes,  and  find  her 
honest  employment  after  it.  He  who  knew  all  the  secrets  of 
Seville  never  made  money  out  of  them  by  threat  of  exposure, 
as  he  said  because  it  would  not  pay  to  do  so,  but  really 


52  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

because  though  he  affected  to  be  a  selfish  knave,  at  bottom  his 
heart  was  honest. 

For  my  own  part  I  found  life  with  him  both  easy  and 
happy,  so  far  as  mine  could  be  quite  happy.  Soon  I  learned 
my  role  and  played  it  well.  It  was  given  out  that  I  was  the 
nephew  of  the  rich  old  physician  Fonseca,  whom  he  was 
training  to  take  his  place ;  and  this,  together  with  my  own 
appearance  and  manners,  ensured  me  a  welcome  in  the  best 
houses  of  Seville.  Here  I  took  that  share  of  our  business 
which  my  master  could  not  take,  for  now  he  never  mixed  among 
the  fashion  of  the  city.  Money  I  was  supplied  with  in  abund- 
ance so  that  I  could  ruffle  it  with  the  best,  but  soon  it  became 
known  that  I  looked  to  business  as  well  as  to  pleasure.  Often 
and  often  during  some  gay  ball  or  carnival,  a  lady  would 
glide  up  to  me  and  ask  beneath  her  breath  if  Don  Andres  de 
Fonseca  would  consent  to  see  her  privately  on  a  matter  oi 
some  importance,  and  I  would  fix  an  hour  then  and  there. 
Had  it  not  been  for  me  such  patients  would  have  been  lost  to  us. 
since,  for  the  most  part,  their  timidity  had  kept  them  away. 

In  the  same  fashion  when  the  festival  was  ended  and 
I  prepared  to  wend  homewards,  now  and  again  a  gallant 
wrould  slip  his  arm  in  mine  and  ask  my  master's  help  in  some 
affair  of  love  or  honour,  or  even  of  the  purse.  Then  I  would 
lead  him  straight  to  the  old  Moorish  house  where  Don  Andres 
sat  writing  in  his  velvet  robe  like  some  spider  in  his  web,  foi 
the  most  of  our  business  was  done  at  night ;  and  straightway 
the  matter  would  be  attended  to,  to  my  master's  profit 
and  the  satisfaction  of  all.  By  degrees  it  became  known 
that  though  I  was  so  young  yet  I  had  discretion,  and  thai 
nothing  which  went  in  at  my  ears  came  out  of  my  lips  ;  that  1 
neither  brawled  nor  drank  nor  gambled  to  any  length,  anc 
that  though  I  was  friendly  with  many  fair  ladies,  there  were 
none  who  were  entitled  to  know  my  secrets.  Also  it  became 
known  that  I  had  some  skill  in  my  art  of  healing,  and  it  was 
said  among  the  ladies  of  Seville  that  there  lived  no  man  in 
that  city  so  deft  at  clearing  the  skin  of  blemishes  or  changing 
the  colour  of  the  hair  as  old  Fonseca's  nephew,  and  as  any 
one  may  know  this  reputation  alone  was  worth  a  fortune. 
Thus  it  came  about  that  I  was  more  and  more  consulted  on 
my  own  account.  In  short,  things  went  so  well  with  us  thai 
in  the  first  six  months  of  my  service  I  added  by  one  third  tu 
the  receipts  of  my  master's  practice,  large  as  they  had  been 
before,  besides  lightening  his  labours  not  a  little. 

It  was  a  strange  life,  and  of  the  things  that  I  saw  and 


ANDRES  DE  FONSECA  53 

learned,  could  they  be  written,  I  might  make  a  tale  indeed,  but 
they  have  no  part  in  this  history.  For  it  was  as  though  the 
smiles  and  silence  with  which  men  and  women  hide  their 
thoughts  were  done  away,  and  their  hearts  spoke  to  us  in  the 
accents  of  truth.  Now  some  fair  young  maid  or  wife  would 
come  to  us  with  confessions  of  wickedness  that  would  be 
thought  impossible,  did  not  her  story  prove  itself ;  the  secret 
murder  perchance  of  a  spouse,  or  a  lover,  or  a  rival ;  now  some 
aged  dame  who  would  win  a  husband  in  his  teens,  now  some 
wealthy  low-born  man  or  woman,  who  desired  to  buy  an  alliance 
with  one  lacking  money,  but  of  noble  blood.  Such  I  did  not 
care  to  help  indeed,  but  to  the  love-sick  or  the  love-deluded  I 
listened  with  a  ready  ear,  for  I  had  a  fellow-feeling  with  them. 
Indeed  so  deep  and  earnest  was  my  sympathy  that  more  than 
once  I  found  the  unhappy  fair  ready  to  transfer  their  affections 
to  my  unworthy  self,  and  in  fact  once  things  came  about  so 
that,  had  I  willed  it,  I  could  have  married  one  of  the  loveliest 
and  wealthiest  noble  ladies  of  Seville. 

But  I  would  none  of  it,  who  thought  of  my  English  Lily 
by  day  and  night. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    SECOND   MEETING 

IT  may  be  thought  that  while  I  was  employed  thus  I  had  for- 
gotten the  object  of  my  coming  to  Spain,  namely  to  avenge 
my  mother's  murder  on  the  person  of  Juan  de  Garcia.  But 
this  was-  not  so.  So  soon  as  I  was  settled  in  the  house 
of  Andres  de  Fonseca  I  set  myself  to  make  inquiries  as  to 
de  Garcia's  whereabouts  with  all  possible  diligence,  but  without 
result. 

Indeed,  when  I  came  to  consider  the  matter  coolly  it 
seemed  that  I  had  but  a  slender  chance  of  finding  him  in 
this  city.  He  had,  indeed,  given  it  out  in  Yarmouth  that  he 
was  bound  for  Seville,  but  no  ship  bearing  the  same  name  as 
his  had  put  in  at-  Cadiz  or  sailed  up  the  Guadalquivir,  nor 
was  it  likely,  having  committed  murder  in  England,  that 
he  would  speak  the  truth  as  to  his  destination.  Still  I 
searched  on.  The  house  where  my  mother  and  grandmother 
had  lived  was  burned  down,  and  as  their  mode  of  life  had  been 
retired,  after  more  than  twenty  years  of  change  few  even 
remembered  their  existence.  Indeed  I  only  discovered  one, 


54  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

an  old  woman  whom  I  found  living  in  extreme  poverty,  and 
who  once  had  been  my  grandmother's  servant  and  knew  my 
mother  well,  although  she  was  not  in  the  house  at  the  time 
of  her  flight  to  England.  From  this  woman  I  gathered  some 
information,  though,  needless  to  say,  I  did  not  tell  her  that  I 
was  the  grandson  of  her  old  mistress. 

It  seemed  that  after  my  mother  fled  to  England  with  my 
father,  de  Garcia  persecuted  my  grandmother  and  his  aunt 
with  lawsuits  and  by  other  means,  till  at  last  she  was  reduced 
to  beggary,  in  which  condition  the  villain  left  her  to  die.  So 
poor  was  she  indeed,  that  she  was  buried  in  a  public  grave. 
After  that  the  old  woman,  my  informant,  said  she  had  heard 
that  de  Garcia  had  committed  some  crime  and  been  forced  to 
flee  the  country.  What  the  crime  was  she  could  not  remember, 
but  it  had  happened  about  fifteen  years  ago. 

All  this  I  learned  when  I  had  been  about  three  months  in 
Seville,  and  though  it  was  of  interest  it  did  not  advance  me 
in  my  search. 

Some  four  or  five  nights  afterwards,  as  I  entered  my  em- 
ployer's house  I  met  a  young  woman  coming  out  of  the  doorway 
of  the  patio  ;  she  was  thickly  veiled  and  my  notice  was  drawn 
to  her  by  her  tall  and  beautiful  figure  and  because  she  was 
weeping  so  violently  that  her  body  shook  with  her  sobs.  I  was 
already  well  accustomed  to  such  sights,  for  many  of  those  who 
sought  my  master's  counsel  had  good  cause  to  weep,  and  I 
passed  her  without  remark.  But  when  I  was  come  into  the 
room  where  he  received  his  patients,  I  mentioned  that  I  had 
met  such  a  person  and  asked  if  it  was  any  one  whom  I  knew. 

'  Ah  !  nephew,'  said  Fonseca,  who  always  called  me  thus  by 
now,  and  indeed  began  to  treat  me  with  as  much  affection  as 
though  I  were  really  of  his  blood,  '  a  sad  case,  but  you  do  not 
know  her  and  she  is  no  paying  patient.  A  poor  girl  of  noble 
birth  who  had  entered  religion  and  taken  her  vows,  when  a 
gallant  appears,  meets  her  secretly  in  the  convent  garden, 
promises  to  marry  her  if  she  will  fly  with  him,  indeed  does  go 
through  some  mummery  of  marriage  with  her — so  she  says— 
and  the  rest  of  it.  Now  he  has  deserted  her  and  she  is  in 
trouble,  and  what  is  more,  should  the  priests  catch  her,  likely 
to  learn  what  it  feels  like  to  die  by  inches  in  a  convent  wall. 
She  came  to  me  for  counsel  and  brought  some  silver  ornaments 
as  the  fee.  Here  they  are.' 

'  You  took  them  ! ' 

'  Yes,  I  took  them— I  always  take  a  fee,  but  I  gave  her 
back  their  weight  in  gold.  What  is  more,  I  told  her  where 


THE  SECOND  MEETTXG  55 

she  might  hide  from  the  priests  till  the  hunt  is  done  with. 
What  I  did  not  like  to  tell  her  is  that  her  lover  is  the  greatest 
villain  who  ever  trod  the  streets  of  Seville.  What  was  the 
good  ?  She  will  see  little  more  of  him.  Hist !  here  comes 
the1  duchess — an  astrological  case  this.  WThere  are  the  horo- 
scope and  the  wand,  yes,  and  the  crystal  ball  ?  There,  shade 
the  lamps,  give  me  the  book,  and  vanish.' 

I  obeyed,  and  presently  met  the  great  lady,  a  stout  woman 
attended  by  a  duenna,  gliding  fearfully  through  the  darkened 
archways  to  learn  the  answer  of  the  stars  and  pay  many  good 
pesos  for  it,  and  the  sight  of  her  made  me  laugh  so  much  that 
I  forgot  quickly  about  the  other  lady  and  her  woes. 

And  now  I  must  tell  how  I  met  my  cousin  and  my  enemy 
de  Garcia  for  the  second  time.  Two  days  after  my  meeting 
with  the  veiled  lady  it  chanced  that  I  was  wandering  towards 
midnight  through  a  lonely  part  of  the  old  city  little  frequented 
by  passers-by.  It  was  scarcely  safe  to  be  thus  alone  in  such 
a  place  and  hour,  but  the  business  with  which  I  had  been 
charged  by  my  master  was  one  that  must  be  carried  out  un- 
attended. Also  I  had  no  enemies  whom  I  knew  of,  and  was 
armed  with  the  very  sword  that  I  had  taken  from  de  Garcia  in 
the  lane  at  Ditchingham,  the  sword  that  had  slain  my  mother, 
and  which  I  bore  in  the  hope  that  it  might  serve  to  avenge 
her.  In  the  use  of  this  weapon  I  had  grown  expert  enough 
by  now,  for  every  morning  I  took  lessons  in  the  art  of  fence. 

My  business  being  done  I  was  walking  slowly  homeward, 
and  as  I  went  I  fell  to  thinking  of  the  strangeness  of  my 
present  life  and  of  how  far  it  differed  from  my  boyhood  in  the 
valley  of  the  Waveney,  and  of  many  other  things.  And  then 
I  thought  of  Lily  and  wondered  how  her  days  passed,  and  if 
my  brother  Geoffrey  persecuted  her  to  marry  him,  and  whether 
or  no  she  would  resist  his  importunities  and  her  father's. 
And  so  as  I  walked  musing  I  came  to  a  water-gate  that 
opened  on  to  the  Guadalquivir,  and  leaning  upon  the  coping 
of  a  low  wall  I  rested  there  idly  to  consider  the  beauty  of  the 
night.  In  truth  it  was  a  lovely  night,  for  across  all  these 
years  I  remember  it.  Let  those  who  have  seen  it  say  if  they 
know  any  prospect  more  beautiful  than  the  sight  of  the 
August  moon  shining  on  the  broad  waters  of  the  Guadalquivir 
and  the  clustering  habitations  of  the  ancient  city. 

Now  as  I  leaned  upon  the  wall  and  looked,  I  saw  a  man 
pass  up  the  steps  beside  me  and  go  on  into  the  shadow  of  the 
street,  I  took  no  note  of  him  till  presently  I  heard  a  murmur. 


56  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

of  distant  voices,  and  turning  my  head  I  discovered  that  the 
man  was  in  conversation  with  a  woman  whom  he  had  met 
at  the  head  of  the  path  that  ran  down  to  the  water-gate. 
Doubtless  it  was  a  lovers'  meeting,  and  since  such  sights  are 
of  interest  to  all,  and  more  especially  to  the  young,  I  watchec 
the  pair.  Soon  I  learned  that  there  was  little  of  tenderness 
in  this  tryst,  at  least  on  the  part  of  the  gallant,  who  dre^ 
continually  backwards  toward  me  as  though  he  would  seel 
the  boat  by  which  doubtless  he  had  come,  and  I  marvelled  a 
this,  for  the  moonlight  shone  upon  the  woman's  face,  and  ever 
at  that  distance  I  could  see  that  it  was  very  fair.  The  man'; 
face  I  could  not  see  however,  since  his  back  was  towards  me  fo: 
the  most  part,  moreover  he  wore  a  large  sombrero  that  shadec 
it.  Now  they  came  nearer  to  me,  the  man  always  drawing 
backward  and  the  woman  always  following,  till  at  length  the^ 
were  within  earshot.  The  woman  was  pleading  with  the  man, 
1  Surely  you  will  not  desert  me,'  she  said,  '  after  marrying 
me  and  all  that  you  have  sworn  ;  you  will  not  have  the  hear ; 
to  desert  me.  I  abandoned  everything  for  you.  I  am  in  grea ; 

danger.   I '  and  here  her  voice  fell  so  that  I  could  not  catcl  i 

her  words. 

Then  he  spoke.   '  Fairest,  now  as  always  I  adore  you.   Bin 
we  must  part  awhile.     You  owe  me  much,  Isabella.     I  havo 
rescued  you  from  the  grave,  I  have  taught  you  what  it  is  to 
live  and  love.     Doubtless  with  your  advantages  and  charms, 
your  great  charms,  you  will  profit  by  the  lesson.     Money  [ 
cannot  give  you,  for  I  have  none  to  spare,  but  I  have  endowed 
you  with  experience  that  is  more  valuable  by  far.     This  is 
our  farewell  for  awhile  and  I  am  broken-hearted.     Yet 
"  'Neath  fairer  skies 
Shine  other  eyes," 

and  I—  -'  and  again  he  spoke  so  low  that  I  could  not  catch 
his  words. 

As  he  talked  on,  all  my  body  began  to  tremble.  The  scene 
was  moving  indeed,  but  it  was  not  that  which  stirred  me 
so  deeply,  it  was  the  man's  voice  and  bearing  that  reminded 
me — no,  it  could  scarcely  be ! 

'  Oh  !  you  will  not  be  so  cruel,'  said  the  lady, '  to  leave  ma, 
your  wife,  thus  alone  and  in  such  sore  trouble  and  danger.  Take 
me  with  you,  Juan,  I  beseech  you  ! '  and  she  caught  him  by 
the  arm  and  clung  to  him. 

He  shook  her  from  him  somewhat  roughly,  and  as  he  dil 
so  his  wide  hat  fell  to  the  ground  so  that  the  moonlight  shone 
upon  his  face.  By  Heaven !  it  was  he— Juan  de  Garcia  and  no 


THE  SECOND  MEETING  57 

other !  I  could  not  be  mistaken.  There  was  the  deeply  carved, 
cruel  face,  the  high  forehead  with  the  scar  on  it,  the  thin  sneer- 
ing mouth,  the  peaked  beard  and  curling  hair.  Chance  had  given 
him  into  my  hand,  and  I  would  kill  him  or  he  should  kill  mo. 

I  took  three  paces  and  stood  before  him,  drawing  my 
sword  as  I  came. 

1  What,  my  dove,  have  you  a  bully  at  hand  ? '  he  said 
stepping  back  astonished.  *  Your  business,  sefior  ?  Are  you 
here  to  champion  beauty  in  distress  ?  ' 

*  I  am  here,  Juan  de  Garcia,  to  avenge  a  murdered  woman. 
Do  you  remember  a  certain  river  bank  away  in  England, 
where  you  chanced  to  meet  a  lady  you  had  known,  and  to 
leave  her  dead?  Or  if  you  have  forgotten,  perhaps  at  least 
you  will  remember  this,  which  I  carry  that  it  may  kill  you,' 
and  I  flashed  the  sword  that  had  been  his  before  his  eyes. 

'  Mother  of  God  !  It  is  the  English  boy  who '  and  he 

stopped. 

'  It  is  Thomas  Wingfield  who  beat  and  bound  you,  and  who 
now  purposes  to  finish  what  he  began  yonder  as  he  has  sworn. 
Draw,  or,  Juan  de  Garcia,  I  will  stab  you  where  you  stand.' 

De  Garcia  heard  this  speech,  that  to-day  seems  to  me  to 
smack  of  the  theatre,  though  it  was  spoken  in  grimmest 
earnest,  and  his  face  grew  like  the  face  of  a  trapped  wolf. 
Yet  I  saw  that  he  had  no  mind  to  fight,  not  because  of 
cowardice,  for  to  do  him  justice  he  was  no  coward,  but  because 
of  superstition.  He  feared  to  fight  with  me  since,  as  I  learned 
afterwards,  he  believed  that  he  would  meet  his  end  at  my 
hand,  and  it  was  for  this  reason  chiefly  that  he  strove  to  kill 
me  when  first  we  met. 

1  The  duello  has  its  laws,  seiior,'  he  said  courteously.  '  It 
is  not  usual  to  fight  thus  unseconded  and  in  the  presence  of  a 
woman.  If  you  believe  that  you  have  any  grievance  against 
me — though  I  know  not  of  what  you  rave,  or  the  name  by 
which  you  call  me — I  will  meet  you  where  and  when  you 
will.'  And  all  the  while  he  looked  over  his  shoulder  seeking 
some  way  of  escape. 

'  You  will  meet  me  now,'  I  answered.    '  Draw  or  I  strike ! ' 

Then  he  drew,  and  we  fell  to  it  desperately  enough,  till 
the  sparks  flew,  indeed,  and  the  rattle  of  steel  upon  steel  rang 
down  the  quiet  street.  At  first  he  had  somewhat  the  better 
of  me,  for  my  hate  made  me  wild  in  my  play,  but  soon  I  settled 
to  the  work  and  grew  cooler.  I  meant  to  kill  him — more,  I 
knew  that  I  should  kill  him  if  none  came  between  us.  He 
was  still  a  better  swordsman  than  I,  who,  till  I  fought  with 


58  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

him  in  the  lane  at  Ditchingham,  had  never  even  seen  one  of 
these  Spanish  rapiers,  but  I  had  the  youth  and  the  right  on 
my  side,  as  also  I  had  an  eye  like  a  hawk's  and  a  wrist  of  steel. 

Slowly  I  pressed  him  back,  and  ever  my  play  grew  closer 
and  better  and  his  became  wilder.  Now  I  had  touched  him 
twice,  once  in  the  face,  and  I  held  him  with  his  back  against 
the  wall  of  the  way  that  led  down  to  the  water-gate,  and  it 
had  come  to  this,  that  he  scarcely  strove  to  thrust  at  me  at 
all,  but  stood  on  his  defence  waiting  till  I  should  tire.  Then, 
when  victory  was  in  my  hand  disaster  overtook  me,  for  the 
woman,  who  had  been  watching  bewildered,  saw  that  her 
faithless  lover  was  in  danger  of  death  and  straightway  seized 
me  from  behind,  at  the  same  time  sending  up  shriek  after 
shriek  for  help.  I  shook  her  from  me  quickly  enough,  but 
not  before  de  Garcia,  seeing  his  advantage,  had  dealt  me  a 
coward's  thrust  that  took  me  in  the  right  shoulder  and  half 
crippled  me,  so  that  in  my  turn  I  must  stand  on  my  defence 
if  I  would  keep  my  life  in  me.  Meanwhile  the  shrieks  had 
been  heard,  and  of  a  sudden  the  watch  came  running  round 
the  corner  whistling  for  help.  De  Garcia  saw  them,  and  dis- 
engaging suddenly,  turned  and  ran  for  the  water-gate,  the  lady 
also  vanishing,  whither  I  do  not  know. 

Now  the  watch  was  on  me,  and  their  leader  came  at  me 
to  seize  me,  holding  a  lantern  in  his  hand.  I  struck  it  with 
the  handle  of  the  sword,  so  that  it  fell  upon  the  roadway, 
where  it  blazed  up  like  a  bonfire.  Then  I  turned  also  and 
fled,  for  I  did  not  wish  to  be  dragged  before  the  magistrates  of 
the  city  as  a  brawler,  and  in  my  desire  to  escape  I  forgot  that 
de  Garcia  was  escaping  also.  Away  I  went  and  three  of  the 
watch  after  me,  but  they  were  stout  and  scant  of  breath, 
and  by  the  time  that  I  had  run  three  furlongs  I  distanced 
them.  I  halted  to  get  my  breath  and  remembered  that  I  had 
lost  de  Garcia  and  did  not  know  when  I  should  find  him  again. 
At  first  I  was  minded  to  return  and  seek  him,  but  reflection 
told  me  that  by  now  it  would  be  useless,  also  that  the  end  of 
it  might  be  that  I  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  watch, 
who  would  know  me  by  my  wound,  which  began  to  pain 
me.  So  I  went  homeward  cursing  my  fortune,  and  the  woman 
who  had  clasped  me  from  behind  just  as  I  was  about  to 
send  the  death-thrust  home,  and  also  my  lack  of  skill  which 
had  delayed  that  thrust  so  long.  Twice  I  might  have  made 
it  and  twice  I  had  waited,  being  over- cautious  and  over- 
anxious to  be  sure,  and  now  I  had  lost  my  chance,  and  might 
bide  many  a  day  before  it  came  again. 


Then  he  drew,  and  we  fell  to  it  desperately 


THE  SECOND  MEETING  59 

How  should  I  find  him  in  this  great  city  ?  Doubtless, 
though  I  had  not  thought  of  it,  de  Garcia  passed  under  some 
feigned  name  as  he  had  done  at  Yarmouth.  It  was  bitter  indeed 
to  have  been  so  near  to  vengeance  and  to  have  missed  it. 

By  now  I  was  at  home  and  bethought  me  that  I  should 
do  well  to  go  to  Fonseca,  my  master,  and  ask  his  help. 
Hitherto  I  had  said  nothing  of  this  matter  to  him,  for  I  have 
always  loved  to  keep  my  own  counsel,  and  as  yet  I  had  not 
spoken  of  my  past  even  to  him.  Going  to  the  room  where  he 
was  accustomed  to  receive  patients,  I  found  he  had  retired  to 
rest,  leaving  orders  that  I  was  not  to  awake  him  this  night 
as  he  was  weary.  So  I  bound  up  my  hurt  after  a  fashion 
and  sought  my  bed  also,  very  ill-satisfied  with  my  fortune. 

On  the  morrow  I  went  to  my  master's  chamber  where  ho 
still  lay  abed,  having  been  seized  by  a  sudden  weakness  that 
was  the  beginning  of  the  illness  which  ended  in  his  death.  As 
I  mixed  a  draught  for  him  he  noticed  that  my  shoulder  was 
hurt  and  asked  me  what  had  happened.  This  gave  me  my 
opportunity,  which  I  was  not  slow  to  take. 

*  Have  you  patience  to  listen  to  a  story  ? '  I  said,  '  for  I 
would  seek  your  help.' 

'  Ah  !  '  he  answered,  '  it  is  the  old  case,  the  physician  can- 
not heal  himself.  Speak  on,  nephew.' 

Then  I  sat  down  by  the  bed  and  told  him  all,  keeping 
nothing  back.  I  told  him  the  history  of  my  mother  and  my 
father's  courtship,  of  my  own  childhood,  of  the  murder  of  my 
mother  by  de  Garcia,  and  of  the  oath  that  I  had  sworn  to  be 
avenged  upon  him.  Lastly  I  told  him  of  what  had  happened 
upon  the  previous  night  and  how  my  enemy  had  evaded  me. 
All  the  while  that  I  was  speaking  Fonseca,  wrapped  in  a  rich 
Moorish  robe,  sat  up  in  the  bed  holding  his  knees  beneath  his 
chin,  and  watching  my  face  with  his  keen  eyes.  But  he 
spoke  no  word  and  made  no  sign  till  I  had  finished  the  tale. 

'  You  are  strangely  foolish,  nephew,'  he  said  at  length. 
'  For  the  most  part  youth  fails  through  rashness,  but  you  err 
by  over-caution.  By  over-caution  in  your  fence  you  lost  your 
chance  last  night,  and  so  by  over- caution  in  hiding  this  tale 
from  me  you  have  lost  a  far  greater  opportunity.  What,  have 
you  not  seen  me  give  counsel  in  many  such  matters,  and  have 
you  ever  known  me  to  betray  the  confidence  even  of  the  veriest 
stranger  ?  Why  then  did  you  fear  for  yours  ?  ' 

'  I  do  not  know,'  I  answered,  *  but  I  thought  that  first  I 
would  search  for  myself.' 

*  Pride  goeth  before  a  fall,  nephew.    Now  listen :  had  I 


60  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

known  this  history  a  month  ago,  by  now  de  Garcia  had 
perished  miserably,  and  not  by  your  hand,  but  by  that  of  the 
law.  I  have  been  acquainted  with  the  man  from  his  child- 
hood, and  know  enough  to  hang  him  twice  over  did  I  choose 
to  speak.  More,  I  knew  your  mother,  boy,  and  now  I  see 
that  it  was  the  likeness  in  your  face  to  hers  that  haunted  me, 
for  from  the  first  it  was  familiar.  It  was  I  also  who  bribed 
the  keepers  of  the  Holy  Office  to  let  your  father  loose,  though, 
as  it  chanced,  I  never  saw  him,  and  arranged  his  flight. 
Since  then,  I  have  had  de  Garcia  through  my  hands  some 
four  or  five  times,  now  under  this  name  and  now  under  that. 
Once  even  he  came  to  me  as  a  client,  but  the  villainy  that  he 
would  have  worked  was  too  black  for  me  to  touch.  This  man 
is  the  wickedest  whom  I  have  known  in  Seville,  and  that  is 
saying  much,  also  he  is  the  cleverest  and  the  most  revengeful. 
He  lives  by  vice  for  vice,  and  there  are  many  deaths  upon  his 
hands.  But  he  has  never  prospered  in  his  evil-doing,  and  to- 
day he  is  but  an  adventurer  without  a  name,  who  lives  by 
blackmail  and  by  ruining  women  that  he  may  rob  them  at 
his  leisure.  Give  me  those  books  from  the  strong  box  yonder, 
and  I  will  tell  you  of  this  de  Garcia.' 

I  did  as  he  bade  me,  bringing  the  heavy  parchment 
volumes,  each  bound  in  vellum  and  written  in  cipher. 

*  These  are  my  records,'  he  said,  '  though  none  can  read 
them  except  myself.    Now  for  the  index.    Ah !  here  it  is. 
Give  me  volume  three,  and  open  it  at  page  two  hundred  and 
one.' 

I  obeyed,  laying  the  book  011  the  bed  before  him,  and  he 
began  to  read  the  crabbed  marks  as  easily  as  though  they  were 
good  black-letter. 

*  De    Garcia — Juan.      Height,  appearance,   family,  false 
names,  and  so  on.     This  is  it — history.     Now  listen.' 

Then  came  some  two  pages  of  closely  written  matter,  ex- 
pressed in  secret  signs  that  Fonseca  translated  as  he  read.  Ii, 
was  brief  enough,  but  such  a  record  as  it  contained  I  have 
never  heard  before  nor  since.  Here,  set  out  against  this  one, 
man's  name,  was  well  nigh  every  wickedness  of  which  & 
human  being  could  be  capable,  carried  through  by  him  to 
gratify  his  appetites  and  revengeful  hate,  and  to  provide  him- 
self with  gold. 

In  that  black  list  were  two  murders  :  one  of  a  rival  by  tho 
knife,  and  one  of  a  mistress  by  poison.  And  there  were  othe:* 
things  even  worse,  too  shameful,  indeed,  to  be  written. 

*  Doubtless  there  is  more  that  has  not  come  beneath  mv 


THE  SECOND  MEETING  61 

notice,'  said  Fonseca  coolly,  *  but  these  things  I  know  for 
truth,  and  one  of  the  murders  could  be  proved  against  him 
were  he  captured.  Stay,  give  me  ink,  I  must  add  to  the 
record.' 

And  he  wrote  in  his  cipher:  'In  May,  1517,  the  said  de 
Garcia  sailed  to  England  on  a  trading  voyage,  and  there,  in  the 

E irish  of  Ditchingham,  in  the  county  of  Norfolk,  he  murdered 
uisa  Wingfield,  spoken  of  above  as  Luisa  de  Garcia,  his 
cousin,  to  whom  he  was  once  betrothed.  In  September  of  the 
same  year,  or  previously,  under  cover  of  a  false  marriage,  he 
decoyed  and  deserted  one  Donna  Isabella  of  the  noble  family 
of  Siguenza,  a  nun  in  a  religious  house  in  this  city.' 

'  What !  '  I  exclaimed,  *  is  the  girl  who  came  to  seek  your 
help  two  nights  since  the  same  that  de  Garcia  deserted  ?  ' 

1  The  very  same,  nephew.  It  was  she  whom  you  heard 
pleading  with  him  last  night.  Had  I  known  two  days  ago 
what  I  know  to-day,  by  now  this  villain  had  been  safe  in 
prison.  But  perhaps  it  is  not  yet  too  late.  I  am  ill,  but 
I  will  rise  and  see  to  it.  Leave  it  to  me,  nephew.  Go, 
nurse  yourself,  and  leave  it  to  me  ;  if  anything  may  be  done 
I  can  do  it.  Stay,  bid  a  messenger  be  ready.  This  evening 
I  shall  know  whatever  there  is  to  be  known.' 

That  night  Fonseca  sent  for  me  again. 

*  I  have  made  inquiries,'  he  said.     '  I  have  even  warned 
the  officers  of  justice  for  the  first  time  for  many  years,  and 
they  are  hunting  de  Garcia  as  bloodhounds  hunt  a  slave. 
But  nothing  can  be  heard  of  him.     He  has  vanisked  and  left 
no  trace.     To-night  I  write  to  Cadiz,  for   he  may  have  fled 
there  down  the  river.     One  thing  I  have  discovered,  however. 
The  Senora  Isabella  was  caught  by  the  watch,  and  being 
recognised  as  having  escaped  from  a  convent,  she  was  handed 
over  to  the  executories  of  the  Holy  Office,  that  her  case  may 
be  investigated,  or  in  other  words,  should  her  fault  be  proved, 
to  death.' 

*  Can  she  be  rescued  ? ' 

'  Impossible.  Had  she  followed  my  counsel  she  would 
never  have  been  taken.' 

'  Can  she  be  communicated  with  ? ' 

'  No.  Twenty  years  ago  it  might  have  been  managed, 
now  the  Office  is  stricter  and  purer.  Gold  has  no  power 
there.  We  shall  never  see  or  hear  of  her  again,  unless,  in- 
deed, it  is  at  the  hour  of  her  death,  when,  should  she  choose 
to  speak  with  me,  the  indulgence  may  possibly  be  granted  to 
her,  though  I  doubt  it.  But  it  is  not  likely  that  she  will  wish 


62  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

to  do  so.  Should  she  succeed  in  hiding  her  disgrace,  she  may 
escape ;  but  io  is  not  probable.  Do  not  look  so  sad,  nephew, 
religion  must  have  its  sacrifices.  Perchance  it  is  better  for 
her  to  die  thus  than  to  live  for  many  years  dead  in  life.  She 
can  die  but  once.  May  her  blood  lie  heavy  on  de  Garcia's 
head !  ' 

1  Amen  ! '  I  answered. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THOMAS    BECOMES    EICH 

FOR  many  months  we  heard  no  more  of  de  Garcia  or  of 
Isabella  de  Siguenza.  Both  had  vanished  leaving  no  sign, 
and  we  searched  for  them  in  vain.  As  for  me  I  fell  back  into 
my  former  way  of  life  of  assistant  to  Fonseca,  posing  before 
the  world  as  his  nephew.  But  it  came  about  that  from  the 
night  of  my  duel  with  the  murderer,  my  master's  health 
declined  steadily  through  the  action  of  a  wasting  disease  of 
the  liver  which  baffled  all  skill,  so  that  within  eight  months  of 
that  time  he  lay  almost  bedridden  and  at  the  point  of  death. 
His  mind  indeed  remained  quite  clear,  and  on  occasions  he 
would  even  receive  those  who  came  to  consult  him,  reclining 
on  a  chair  and  wrapped  in  his  embroidered  robe.  But  the 
hand  of  death  lay  on  him,  and  he  knew  that  it  was  so.  As 
the  weeks  went  by  he  grew  more  and  more  attached  to  me, 
till  at  length,  had  I  been  his  son,  he  could  not  have  treated 
me  with  a  greater  affection,  while  for  my  part  I  did  what  lay 
in  my  power  to  lessen  his  sufferings,  for  he  would  let  no  other 
physician  near  him. 

At  length  when  he  had  grown  very  feeble  he  expressed  a 
desire  to  see  a  notary.  The  man  he  named  was  sent  for  and 
remained  closeted  with  him  for  an  hour  or  more,  when  he 
left  for  a  while  to  return  with  several  of  his  clerks,  who  accom- 
panied him  to  my  master's  room,  from  which  I  was  excluded. 
Presently  they  all  went  away,  bearing  some  parchments  with 
them. 

That  evening  Fonseca  sent  for  me.  I  found  him  very 
weak,  but  cheerful  and  full  of  talk. 

1  Come  here,  nephew,'  he  said,  '  I  have  had  a  busy  day.  I 
have  been  busy  all  my  life  through,  and  it  would  not  be  well 
to  grow  idle  at  the  last.  Do  you  know  what  I  have  been 
doing  this  day  ?  ' 


THOMAS  BECOMES  RICH  63 

I  shook  my  head. 

*  I  will  tell  you.  I  have  been  making  my  will— there  is 
something  to  leave  ;  not  so  very  much,  but  still  something.' 

1  Do  not  talk  of  wills,'  I  said  ;  '  I  trust  that  you  may  live 
for  many  years.' 

He  laughed.  '  You  must  think  badly  of  my  case,  nephew, 
when  you  think  that  I  can  be  deceived  thus.  I  am  about  to 
die  as  you  know  well,  and  I  do  not  fear  death.  My  life  has 
been  prosperous  but  not  happy,  for  it  was  blighted  in  its 
spring — no  matter  how.  The  story  is  an  old  one  and  not 
worth  telling  ;  moreover,  whichever  way  it  had  read,  it  had  all 
been  one  now  in  the  hour  of  death.  We  must  travel  our 
journey  each  of  us  ;  what  does  it  matter  if  the  road  has  been 
good  or  bad  when  we  have  reached  the  goal  ?  For  my  part 
religion  neither  comforts  nor  frightens  me  now  at  the  last. 
I  will  stand  or  fall  upon  the  record  of  my  life.  I  have  done 
evil  in  it  and  I  have  done  good  ;  the  evil  I  have  done  because 
nature  and  temptation  have  been  too  strong  for  me  at  times, 
the  good  also  because  my  heart  prompted  me  to  it.  Well,  it  is 
finished,  and  after  all  death  cannot  be  so  terrible,  seeing  that 
every  human  being  is  born  to  undergo  it,  together  with  all 
living  things.  Whatever  else  is  false,  I  hold  this  to  be  true, 
that  God  exists  and  is  more  merciful  than  those  who  preach 
Him  would  have  us  to  believe.'  And  he  ceased  exhausted. 

Often  since  then  I  have  thought  of  his  words,  and  I  still 
think  of  them  now  that  my  own  hour  is  so  near.  As  will  be 
seen  Fonseca  was  a  fatalist,  a  belief  which  I  do  not  altogether 
share,  holding  as  I  do  that  within  certain  limits  we  are  allowed 
to  shape  our  own  characters  and  destinies.  But  his  last 
sayings  I  believe  to  be  true.  God  is  and  is  merciful,  and 
death  is  not  terrible  either  in  its  act  or  in  its  consequence. 

Presently  Fonseca  spoke  again.  '  Why  do  you  lead  me 
to  talk  of  such  things  ?  They  weary  me  and  I  have  little 
time.  I  was  telling  of  my  will.  Nephew,  listen.  Except 
certain  sums  that  I  have  given  to  be  spent  in  charities — not 
in  masses,  mind  you— I  have  left  you  all  I  possess.' 

'  You  have  left  it  to  me  \ '  I  said  astonished. 

'Yes,  nephew,  to  you.  Why  not?  I  have  no  relations 
living  and  I  ha\e  learned  to  love  you,  I  who  thought  that  I 
could  never  care  again  for  any  man  or  woman  or  child.  I  am 
grateful  to  you,  who  have  proved  to  me  that  my  heart  is  not 
dead,  take  what  I  give  you  as  a  mark  of  my  gratitude.' 

Now  I  began  to  stammer  my  thanks,  but  he  stopped 
me.  *  The  sum  that  you  will  inherit,  nephew,  amounts  in 


64  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

all  to  about  five  thousand  gold  pesos,  or  perhaps  twelve 
thousand  of  your  English  pounds,  enough  for  a  young  man 
to  begin  life  on,  even  with  a  wife.  Indeed  there  in  England 
it  may  well  be  held  a  great  fortune,  and  I  think  that  your 
betrothed's  father  willm,ake  no  more  objection  to  you  as  a  son- 
in-law.  Also  there  is  this  house  and  all  that  it  contains  ;  the 
library  and  the  silver  are  valuable,  and  you  will  do  well  to 
keep  them.  All  is  left  to  you  with  the  fullest  formality,  so 
that  no  question  can  arise  as  to  your  right  to  take  it ;  indeed, 
foreseeing  my  end,  I  have  of  late  called  in  my  moneys,  and 
for  the  most  part  the  gold  lies  in  strong  boxes  in  the  secret 
cupboard  in  the  wall  yonder  that  you  know  of.  It  would  have 
been  more  had  I  known  you  some  years  ago,  for  then,  thinking 
that  I  grew  too  rich  who  was  without  an  heir,  I  gave  away  as 
much  as  what  remains  in  acts  of  mercy  and  in  providing 
refuge  for  the  homeless  and  the  suffering.  Thomas  Wingfield, 
for  the  most  part  this  money  has  come  to  me  as  the  fruit  of 
human  folly  and  human  wretchedness,  frailty  and  sin.  Use  it 
for  the  purposes  of  wisdom  and  the  advancing  of  right  and 
liberty.  May  it  prosper  you,  and  remind  you  of  me,  your  old 
master,  the  Spanish  quack,  till  at  last  you  pass  it  on  to  your 
children  or  the  poor.  And  now  one  word  more.  If  your  con- 
science will  let  you,  abandon  the  pursuit  of  de  Garcia.  Take 
your  fortune  and  go  with  it  to  England;  wed  that  maid 
whom  you  desire,  and  follow  after  happiness  in  whatever  way 
seems  best  to  you.  Who  are  you  that  you  should  mete  out 
vengeance  on  this  knave  de  Garcia  ?  Let  him  be,  and  he  will 
avenge  himself  upon  himself.  Otherwise  you  may  undergo 
much  toil  and  danger,  and  in  the  end  lose  love,  and  life,  and 
fortune  at  a  blow.' 

'  But  I  have  sworn  to  kill  him,'  I  answered,  '  and  how  car 
I  break  so  solemn  an  oath  ?  How  could  I  sit  at  home  ir 
peace  beneath  the  burden  of  such  shame  ?  ' 

'  I  do  not  know ;  it  is  not  for  me  to  judge.  You  must  do 
as  you  wish,  but  in  the  doing  of  it,  it  may  happen  that  you  will 
fall  into  greater  shames  than  this.  You  have  fought  the  man 
and  he  has  escaped  you.  Let  him  go  if  you  are  wise.  Now 
bend  down  and  kiss  me,  and  bid  me  farewell.  I  do  not  desire 
that  you  should  see  me  die,  and  rny  death  is  near.  I  cannou 
tell  if  we  shall  meet  again  when  in  your  turn  you  have  lain  as 
I  lie  now,  or  if  we  shape  our  course  for  different  stars.  If  so, 
farewell  for  ever.' 


as 


Then  I  leant  down  and  kissed  him  on  the  forehead,  and 
I  did  so  I  wept,  for  not  till  this  hour  did  I  learn  how 


THOMAS  BECOMES  RICH  65 

truly  I  had  come  to  love  him,  so  truly  that  it  seemed  to  me  as 
though  my  father  lay  there  dying. 

'  Weep  not,'  he  said,  '  for  all  our  life  is  but  a  parting. 
Once  I  had  a  son  like  you,  and  ours  was  the  bitterest  of  fare- 
wells. Now  I  go  to  seek  for  him  again  who  could  not  come 
back  to  me,  so  weep  not  because  I  die.  Good-bye,  Thomas 
Wingfield.  May  God  prosper  and  protect  you !  Now  go  ! ' 

So  I  went  weeping,  and  that  night,  before  the  dawn,  all 
was  over  with  Andres  de  Fonseca.  They  told  me  that  he  was 
conscious  to  the  end  and  died  murmuring  the  name  of  that  son 
of  whom  he  spoke  in  his  last  words  to  me. 

What  was  the  history  of  this  son,  or  of  Fonseca  himself,  I 
never  learned,  for  like  an  Indian  he  hid  his  trail  as  step  by 
step  he  wandered  down  the  path  of  life.  He  never  spoke  of 
his  past,  and  in  all  the  books  and  documents  that  he  left  be- 
hind him  there  is  no  allusion  to  it.  Once,  some  years  ago, 
I  read  through  the  cipher  volumes  of  records  that  I  have 
spoken  of,  and  of  which  he  gave  me  the  key  before  he  died. 
They  stand  before  me  on  the  shelf  as  I  write,  and  in  them 
are  many  histories  of  shame,  sorrow,  and  evil,  of  faith  deluded 
and  innocence  betrayed,  of  the  cruelty  of  priests,  of  avarice 
triumphant  over  love,  and  of  love  triumphant  over  death — 
enough,  indeed,  to  furnish  half  a  hundred  of  true  romances. 
But  among  these  chronicles  of  a  generation  now  past  and 
forgotten,  there  is  no  mention  of  Fonseca's  own  name  and 
no  hint  of  his  own  story.  It  is  lost  for  ever,  and  perhaps  this 
is  well.  So  died  my  benefactor  and  best  friend. 

When  he  was  made  ready  for  burial  I  went  in  to  see  him  and 
he  looked  calm  and  beautiful  in  his  death  sleep.  Then  it  was 
that  she  who  had  arrayed  him  for  the  grave  handed  to  me  two 
portraits  most  delicately  painted  on  ivory  and  set  in  gold, 
which  had  been  found  about  his  neck.  I  have  them  yet.  One 
is  of  the  head  of  a  lady  with  a  sweet  and  wistful  countenance, 
and  the  other  the  face  of  a  dead  youth  also  beautiful,  but 
very  sad.  Doubtless  they  were  mother  and  son,  but  I  know 
no  more  about  them. 

On  the  morrow  I  buried  Andres  de  Fonseca,  but  with  no 
pomp,  for  he  had  said  that  he  wished  as  little  money  as  pos- 
sible spent  upon  his  dead  body,  and  returned  to  the  house  to 
meet  the  notaries.  Then  the  seals  were  broken  and  the 
parchments  read  and  I  was  put  in  full  possession  of  the  dead 
man's  wealth,  and  having  deducted  such  sums  as  were  pay- 
able for  dues,  legacies,  and  fees,  the  notaries  left  me  bowing 
humbly,  for  was  I  not  rich  ?  Yes,  I  was  rich,  wealth  had 

F 


66  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

come  to  me  without  effort,  and  I  had  reason  to  desire  it,  yet 
this  was  the  saddest  night  that  I  had  passed  since  I  set  foot  in 
Spain,  for  my  mind  was  filled  with  doubts  and  sorrow,  and  more- 
over my  loneliness  got  a  hold  of  me.  But  sad  as  it  might  be, 
it  was  destined  to  seem  yet  more  sorrowful  before  the  morning. 
For  as  I  sat  making  pretence  to  eat,  a  servant  came  to  me  say- 
ing that  a  woman  waited  in  the  outer  room  who  had  asked  to  see 
his  late  master.  Guessing  that  this  was  some  client  who  had 
not  heard  of  Fonseca's  death  I  was  about  to  order  that  she 
should  be  dismissed,  then  bethought  me  that  I  might  be  of 
service  to  her  or  at  the  least  forget  some  of  my  own  trouble 
in  listening  to  hers.  So  I  bade  him  bring  her  in.  Presently 
she  came,  a  tall  woman  wrapped  in  a  dark  cloak  that  hid  her 
face.  I  bowed  and  motioned  to  her  to  be  seated,  when  sud- 
denly she  started  and  spoke. 

*  1  asked  to  see  Don  Andres  de  Fonseca,'  she  said  in  a  low 
quick  voice.     *  You  are  not  he,  seiior.' 

*  Andres  de  Fonseca  was  buried  to-day,'  I  answered.    '  I 
was  his  assistant  in  his  business  and  am  his  heir.     If  I  can 
serve  you  in  any  way  I  am  at  your  disposal.' 

'  You  are  young — very  young,'  she  murmured  confusedly, 
'  and  the  matter  is  terrible  and  urgent.  How  can  I  trust 
you?  ' 

« It  is  for  you  to  judge,  senora.' 

She  thought  a  while,  then  drew  off  her  cloak,  displaying 
the  robes  of  a  nun. 

'  Listen,'  she  said.  *  I  must  do  many  a  penance  for  this 
night's  work,  and  very  hardly  have  I  won  leave  to  come  hither 
upon  an  errand  of  mercy.  Now  I  cannot  go  back  empty- 
handed,  so  I  must  trust  you.  But  first  swear  by  the  blessed 
Mother  of  God  that  you  will  not  betray  me.' 

« 1  give  you  my  word,'  I  answered ;  '  if  that  is  not  enough 
let  us  end  this  talk.' 

«  Do  not  be  angry  with  me/  she  pleaded ;  '  I  have  not  left 
my  convent  walls  for  many  years  and  I  am  distraught  witt 
grief.  I  seek  a  poison  of  the  deadliest.  I  will  pay  well  for 

1 1  am  not  the  tool  of  murderers,'  I  answered.  «  For  wha; 
purpose  do  you  wish  the  poison  ? ' 

'  Oh  !  I  must  tell  you— yet  how  can  I  ?  In  our  convent 
there  dies  to-night  a  woman  young  and  fair,  almost  a  girl 
indeed,  who  has  broken  the  vows  she  took.  She  dies  to-night 
with  her  babe— thus,  oh  God,  thus !  by  being  built  alive  into 
the  foundations  of  the  house  she  has  disgraced.  It  is  fita 


THOMAS  BECOMES  RICH  67 

judgment  that  has  been  passed  upon  her,  judgment  without 
forgiveness  or  reprieve.  I  am  the  ahbess  of  this  convent — 
ask  not  its  name  or  mine — and  I  love  this  sinner  as  though 
she  were  my  daughter.  I  have  obtained  this  much  of  nu-ivy 
for  her  because  of  my  faithful  services  to  the  Church  and 
by  secret  influence,  that  when  I  give  her  the  cup  of  water 
before  the  work  is  done,  I  may  mix  poison  with  it  and  touch 
the  lips  of  the  babe  with  poison,  so  that  their  end  is  swift.  I 
may  do  this  and  yet  have  no  sin  upon  my  soul.  I  have  my 
pardon  under  seal.  Help  me  then  to  be  an  innocent  murderess, 
and  to  save  this  sinner  from  her  last  agonies  on  earth.' 

I  cannot  set  down  the  feelings  with  which  I  listened  to 
this  tale  of  horror,  for  words  could  not  carry  them.  I  stood 
aghast  seeking  an  answer,  and  a  dreadful  thought  entered  my 
mind. 

'  Is  this  woman  named  Isabella  de  Siguenza  ? '  I  asked. 

'  That  name  was  hers  in  the  world,'  she  answered, '  though 
how  you  know  it  I  cannot  guess.' 

'  We  know  many  things  in  this  house,  mother.  Say  now, 
can  this  Isabella  be  saved  by  money  or  by  interest  ? ' 

'  It  is  impossible  ;  her  sentence  has  been  confirmed  by  the 
Tribunal  of  Mercy.  She  must  die  and  within  two  hours.  Will 
you  not  give  the  poison  ? ' 

'  I  cannot  give  it  unless  I  know  its  purpose,  mother.  This 
may  be  a  barren  tale,  and  the  medicine  might  be  used  in  such 
a  fashion  that  I  should  fall  beneath  the  law.  At  one  price 
only  can  I  give  it,  and  it  is  that  I  am  there  to  see  it  used.' 

She  thought  a  while  and  answered  :  '  It  may  be  done,  for 
as  it  chances  the  wording  of  my  absolution  will  cover  it.  But 
you  must  come  cowled  as  a  priest,  that  those  who  carry  out 
the  sentence  may  know  nothing.  Still  others  will  know,  and 
I  warn  you  that  should  you  speak  of  the  matter  you  yourself 
will  meet  with  misfortune.  The  Church  avenges  itself  on 
those  who  betray  its  secrets,  sen  or.' 

*  As  one  day  its  secrets  will  avenge  themselves  upon  the 
Church,'  I  answered  bitterly.  '  And  now  let  me  seek  a  fitting 
drug— one  that  is  swift,  yet  not  too  swift,  lest  your  hounds 
should  see  themselves  baffled  of  the  prey  before  all  their 
devilry  is  done.  Here  is  something  that  will  do  the  work,' 
and  I  held  up  a  phial  that  I  drew  from  a  case  of  such  medi- 
cines. '  Come,  veil  yourself,  mother,  and  let  us  be  gone 
upon  this  "  errand  of  mercy."  ' 

She  obeyed,  and  presently  we  left  the  house  and  walked 
away  swiftly  through  the  crowded  streets  till  we  came  to  the 


68  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

ancient  part  of  the  city  along  the  river's  edge.  Here  the 
woman  led  me  to  a  wharf  where  a  boat  was  in  waiting  for 
her.  We  entered  it,  and  were  rowed  for  a  mile  or  more  up 
the  stream  till  the  boat  halted  at  a  landing-place  beneath  a 
high  wall.  Leaving  it,  we  came  to  a  door  in  the  wall  on 
which  my  companion  knocked  thrice.  Presently  a  shutter  in 
the  woodwork  was  drawn,  and  a  white  face  peeped  through  the 
grating  and  spoke.  My  companion  answered  in  a  low  voice, 
and  after  some  delay  the  door  was  opened,  and  I  found  myself 
in  a  large  walled  garden  planted  with  orange  trees.  Then  the 
abbess  spoke  to  me. 

'  I  have  led  you  to  our  house,'  she  said.  '  If  you  know  where 
you  are,  and  what  its  name  may  be,  for  your  own  sake  I  pray 
you  forget  it  when  you  leave  these  doors.' 

I  made  no  answer,  but  looked  round  the  dim  and  dewy 
garden. 

Here  it  was  doubtless  that  de  Garcia  had  met  that  unfor- 
tunate who  must  die  this  night.  A  walk  of  a  hundred  paces 
brought  us  to  another  door  in  the  wall  of  a  long  low  building 
of  Moorish  style.  Here  the  knocking  and  the  questioning 
were  repeated  at  more  length.  Then  the  door  was  opened, 
and  I  found  myself  in  a  passage,  ill  lighted,  long  and  narrow, 
in  the  depths  of  which  I  could  see  the  figures  of  nuns  flitting 
to  and  fro  like  bats  in  a  tomb.  The  abbess  walked  down  the 
passage  till  she  came  to  a  door  on  the  right  which  she  opened. 
It  led  into  a  cell,  and  here  she  left  me  in  the  dark.  For  ten 
minutes  or  more  I  stayed  there,  a  prey  to  thoughts  that  I  had 
rather  forget.  At  length  the  door  opened  again,  and  she  came 
in,  followed  by  a  tall  priest  whose  face  I  could  not  see,  for  he 
was  dressed  in  the  white  robe  and  hood  of  the  Dominicans 
that  left  nothing  visible  except  his  eyes. 

'  Greeting,  my  son,'  he  said,  when  he  had  scanned  me  for 
a  while.  '  The  abbess  mother  has  told  me  of  your  errand. 
You  are  full  young  for  such  a  task.' 

'Were  I  old  I  should  not  love  it  better,  father.  You 
know  the  case.  I  am  asked  to  provide  a  deadly  drug  for  a 
certain  merciful  purpose.  I  have  provided  that  drug,  but  I 
must  be  there  to  see  that  it  is  put  to  proper  use.' 

'You  are  very  cautious,  my  son.  The  Church  is  no 
murderess.  This  woman  must  die  because  her  sin  is  flagrant, 
and  of  late  such  wickedness  has  become  common.  Therefore, 
after  much  thought  and  prayer,  and  many  searchings  to  find  a 
means  of  mercy,  she  is  condemned  to  death  by  those  whose 
names  are  too  high  to  be  spoken.  I,  alas,  am  here  to  see  the 


THOMAS  BECOMES  RICH  69 

sentence  carried  out  with  a  certain  mitigation  which  has  been 
allowed  by  the  mercy  of  her  chief  judge.  It  seems  that  your 
presence  is  needful  to  this  act  of  love,  therefore  I  suffer  it. 
The  mother  abbess  has  warned  you  that  evil  dogs  the  feet  of 
those  who  reveal  the  secrets  of  the  Church.  For  your  own 
sake  I  pray  you  to  lay  that  warning  to  heart.' 

*  I  am  no  babbler,  father,  so  the  caution  is  not  needed. 
One  word  more.  This  visit  should  be  well  feed,  the  medicine 
is  costly.' 

1  Fear  not,  physician,'  the  monk  answered  with  a  note  of 
scorn  in  his  voice  ;  *  name  your  sum,  it  shall  be  paid  to  you.' 

'  I  ask  no  money,  father.  Indeed  I  would  pay  much  to  be 
far  away  to-night.  I  ask  only  that  I  may  be  allowed  to  speak 
with  this  girl  before  she  dies.' 

'  What !  '  he  said,  starting,  '  surely  you  are  not  that  wicked 
man  ?  If  so,  you  are  bold  indeed  to  risk  the  sharing  of  her 
fate.' 

'  No,  father,  I  am  not  that  man.  I  never  saw  Isabella  de 
Siguenza  except  once,  and  I  have  never  spoken  to  her.  I  am 
not  the  man  who  tricked  her  but  I  know  him  ;  he  is  named 
Juan  de  Garcia.' 

'  Ah  !  '  he  said  quickly, '  she  would  never  tell  his  real  name, 
even  under  threat  of  torture.  Poor  erring  soul,  she  could  be 
faithful  in  her  unfaith.  Of  what  would  you  speak  to  her  ? ' 

'  I  wish  to  ask  her  whither  this  man  has  gone.  He  is  my 
enemy,  and  I  would  follow  him  as  I  have  already  followed 
him  far.  He  has  done  worse  by  me  and  mine  than  by  this 
poor  girl  even.  Grant  my  request,  father,  that  I  may  be  able 
to  work  my  vengeance  on  him,  and  with  mine  the  Church's 
also.' 

' "  Vengeance  is  mine,"  saith  the  Lord  ;  "I  will  repay."  Yet 
it  may  be,  son,  that  the  Lord  will  choose  you  as  the  instrument 
of  his  wrath.  An  opportunity  shall  be  given  you  to  speak 
with  her.  Now  put  on  thiu  dress  ' — and  he  handed  me  a  white 
Dominican  hood  and  robe — '  and  follow  me.' 

'  First,'  I  said,  *  let  me  give  this  medicine  to  the  abbess, 
for  I  will  have  no  hand  in  its  administering.  Take  it,  mother, 
and  when  the  time  comes,  pour  the  contents  of  the  phial  into 
a  cup  of  water.  Then,  having  touched  the  mouth  and  tongue 
of  the  babe  with  the  fluid,  give  it  to  the  mother  to  drink  and 
be  sure  that  she  does  drink  it.  Before  the  bricks  are  built  up 
about  them  both  will  sleep  sound,  never  to  wake  again.' 

4 1  will  do  it,'  murmured  the  abbess  ;  *  having  absolution  I 
will  be  bold,  and  do  it  for  love  and  mercy's  sake !  ' 


70  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

1  Your  heart  is  too  soft,  sister.  Justice  is  mercy,'  said  the 
monk  with  a  sigh.  '  Alas  for  the  frailty  of  the  flesh  that 
wars  against  the  spirit !  ' 

Then  I  clothed  myself  in  the  ghastly  looking  dress,  and 
they  took  lamps  and  motioned  to  me  to  follow  them. 


CHAPTER   X 

THE   PASSING   OF   ISABELLA   DE    SIGUENZA 

SILENTLY  we  went  down  the  long  passage,  and  as  we  went  I 
saw  the  eyes  of  the  dwellers  in  this  living  tomb  watch  us  pass 
through  the  gratings  of  their  cell  doors.  Little  wonder  that 
the  woman  about  to  die  had  striven  to  escape  from  such  a  home 
back  to  the  world  of  life  and  love !  Yet  for  that  crime  she 
must  perish.  Surely  God  will  remember  the  doings  of  such 
men  as  these  priests,  and  the  nation  that  fosters  them.  And, 
indeed,  He  does  remember,  for  where  is  the  splendour  of  Spain 
to-day,  and  where  are  the  cruel  rites  she  gloried  in  ?  Here  in 
England  their  fetters  are  broken  for  ever,  and  in  striving  to 
bind  them  fast  upon  us  free  Englishmen  she  is  broken  also — 
never  to  be  whole  again. 

At  the  far  end  of  the  passage  we  found  a  stair  down  which 
we  passed.  At  its  foot  was  an  iron-bound  door  that  the  monk 
unlocked  and  locked  again  upon  the  further  side.  Then  came 
another  passage  hollowed  in .  the  thickness  of  the  wall,  and  a 
second  door,  and  we  were  in  the  place  of  death. 

It  was  a  vault  low  and  damp,  and  the  waters  of  the  river 
washed  its  outer  wall,  for  I  could  hear  their  murmuring  in  the 
silence.  Perhaps  the  place  may  have  measured  ten  paces  in 
length  by  eight  broad.  For  the  rest  its  roof  was  supported  by 
massive  columns,  and  on  one  side  there  was  a  second  door  that 
led  to  a  prison  cell.  At  the  further  end  of  this  gloomy  den, 
that  was  dimly  lighted  by  torches  and  lamps,  two  men  with 
hooded  heads,  and  draped  in  coarse  black  gowns,  were  at  work, 
silently  mixing  lime  that  sent  up  a  hot  steam  upon  the  stagnant 
air.  By  their  sides  were  squares  of  dressed  stone  ranged 
neatly  against  the  end  of  the  vault,  and  before  them  was  a 
niche  cut  in  the  thickness  of  the  wall  itself,  shaped  like  a  large- 
coffin  set  upon  its  smaller  end.  In  front  of  this  niche  was 
placed  a  massive  chair  of  chestnut  wood.  I  noticed  also  thai, 
two  other  such  coffin-shaped  niches  had  been  cut  in  this  same 


THE  PASSING   OF  ISABELLA   DE  SIGUENZA     71 

wall,  and  filled  in  with  similar  blocks  of  whitish  stone.  On  the 
face  of  each  was  a  date  graved  in  deep  letters.  One  had  been 
sealed  up  some  thirty  years  before,  and  one  hard  upon  a 
hundred. 

These  two  men  were  the  only  occupants  of  the  vault  when 
we  entered  it,  but  presently  a  sound  of  soft  and  solemn  singing 
stole  down  the  second  passage.  Then  the  door  was  opened, 
the  mason  monks  ceased  labouring  at  the  heap  of  lime,  and 
the  sound  of  singing  grew  louder  so  that  I  could  catch  the 
refrain.  It  was  that  of  a  Latin  hymn  for  the  dying.  Next 
through  the  open  door  came  the  choir,  eight  veiled  nuns 
walking  two  by  two,  and  ranging  themselves  on  either  side  of 
the  vault  they  ceased  their  singing.  After  them  followed  the 
doomed  woman,  guarded  by  two  more  nuns,  and  last  of  all  a 
priest  bearing  a  crucifix.  This  man  wore  a  black  robe,  and 
his  thin  half -frenzied  face  was  uncovered.  All  these  and  other 
things  I  noticed  and  remembered,  yet  at  the  time  it  seemed  to 
me  that  I  saw  nothing  except  the  figure  of  the  victim.  I  knew 
her  again,  although  I  had  seen  her  but  once  in  the  moonlight. 
She  was  changed  indeed,  her  lovely  face  was  fuller  and  the 
great  tormented  eyes  shone  like  stars  against  its  waxen  pallor, 
relieved  by  the  carmine  of  her  lips  alone.  Still  it  was  the 
same  face  that  some  eight  months  before  I  had  seen  lifted 
in  entreaty  to  her  false  lover.  Now  her  tall  shape  was 
wrapped  about  with  grave  clothes  over  which  her  black  hair 
streamed,  and  in  her  arms  she  bore  a  sleeping  babe  that  from 
time  to  time  she  pressed  convulsively  to  her  breast. 

On  the  threshold  of  her  tomb  Isabella  de  Siguenza  paused 
and  looked  round  wildly  as  though  for  help,  scanning  each 
of  the  silent  watchers  to  find  a  friend  among  them. 
Then  her  eye  fell  upon  the  niche  and  the  heap  of  smoking 
lime  and  the  men  who  guarded  it,  and  she  shuddered  and 
would  have  fallen  had  not  those  who  attended  her  led  her  to 
the  chair  and  placed  her  in  it — a  living  corpse. 

Now  the  dreadful  rites  began.  The  Dominican  father 
stood  before  her  and  recited  her  offence,  and  the  sentence  that 
had  been  passed  upon  her,  which  doomed  her,  '  to  be  left  alone 
with  God  and  the  child  of  your  sin,  that  He  may  deal  with  you 
as  He  sees  fit.' '  To  all  of  this  she  seemed  to  pay  no  heed, 

1  Lest  such  cruelty  should  seem  impossible  and  unprecedented,  the 
writer  may  mention  that  in  the  museum  of  the  city  of  Mexico,  he  has 
seen  the  desiccated  body  of  a  young  woman,  which  was  found  immured 
in  the  walls  of  a  religious  building.  With  it  is  the  body  of  an  infant. 
Although  the  exact  cause  of  her  execution  remains  a  matter  of  conjecture, 


72  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

nor  to  the  exhortation  that  followed.     At  length  he  ceased 
with  a  sigh,  and  turning  to  me  said : 

1  Draw  near  to  this  sinner,  brother,  and  speak  with  her 
before  it  is  too  late.' 

Then  he  bade  all  present  gather  themselves  at  the  far  end 
of  the  vault  that  our  talk  might  not  be  overheard,  and  they 
did  so  without  wonder,  thinking  doubtless  that  I  was  a  monk 
sent  to  confess  the  doomed  woman. 

So  I  drew  near  with  a  beating  heart,  and  bending  over  her 
I  spoke  in  her  ear. 

*  Listen  to  me,  Isabella  de  Siguenza !  '  I  said  ;  and  as  I 
uttered  the  name  she  started  wildly.  «  Where  is  that  de  Garcia 
who  deceived  and  deserted  you  ?  ' " 

'  How  have  you  learnt  his  true  name  ? '  she  answered. 
'  Not  even  torture  would  have  wrung  it  from  me  as  you  know.' 

4 1  am  no  monk  and  I  know  nothing.  I  am  that  man 
who  fought  with  de  Garcia  on  the  night  when  you  were 
taken,  an4  who  would  have  killed  him  had  you  not  seized  me.' 

1  At  the  least  I  saved  him,  that  is  my  comfort  now. ' 
Isabella  de  Siguenza,'  I  said,  '  I  am  your  friend,  the  best 
you  ever  had  and  the  last,  as  you  shall  learn  presently.     Tell 
me  where  this  man  is,  for  there  is  that  between  us  which  must 
be  settled.' 

'  If  you  are  my  friend,  weary  me  no  more.  I  do  not  know 
where  he  is.  Months  ago  he  went  whither  you  will  scarcely 
follow,  to  the  furthest  Indies ;  but  you  will  never  find  him 
there.' 

'  It  may  still  be  that  I  shall,  and  if  it  should  so  chance,  say 
have  you  any  message  for  this  man  ?  ' 

1  None—yes,  this.  Tell  him  how  we  died,  his  child  and  his 
wife— tell  him  that  I  did  my  best  to  hide  his  name  from  the 
priests  lest  some  like  fate  should  befall  him.' 

1  Is  that  all  ?  ' 

'Yes.  No,  it  is  not  all.  Tell  him  that  I  passed  away 
loving  and  forgiving.' 

'  My  time  is  short,'  I  said  ;  '  awake  and  listen  ! '  for  having 
spoken  thus  she  seemed  to  be  sinking  into  a  lethargy.  *  I 
was  the  assistant  of  that  Andres  de  Fonseca  whose  counsel 
you  put  aside  to  your  ruin,  and  I  have  given  a  certain  drug  to 
the  abbess  yonder.  When  she  offers  you  the  cup  of  water,  see 

there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  manner  of  her  death,  for  in  addition  to 
other  evidences,  the  marks  of  the  rope  with  which  her  limbs  were  bound 
in  life  are  still  distinctly  visible.  Such  in  those  days  were  the  mercies 
of  religion  ! 


THE  PASSING   OF  ISABELLA    DE  SIGUENZA     73 

that  you  drink  and  deep,  you  and  the  child.  If  so  none  shall 
ever  die  more  happily.  Do  you  understand  ?  ' 

'  Yes — yes,'  she  gasped,  '  and  may  blessings  rest  upon  you 
for  the  gift.  Now  I  am  no  more  afraid — for  I  have  long 
desired  to  die — it  was  the  way  I  fearer1  ' 

'  Then  farewell,  and  God  be  with  )  ou,  unhappy  woman.' 

'  Farewell,'  she  answered  softly,  '  but  call  me  not  unhappy 
who  am  about  to  die  thus  easily  with  that  I  love.'  And  she 
glanced  at  the  sleeping  babe. 

Then  I  drew  back  and  stood  with  bent  head,  speaking  no 
word.  Now  the  Dominican  motioned  to  all  to  take  the  places 
where  they  had  stood  before  and  asked  her  : 

'  Erring  sister,  have  you  aught  to  say  before  you  are  silent 
for  ever  ?  ' 

'  Yes,'  she  answered  in  a  clear,  sweet  voice,  that  never 
even  quavered,  so  bold  had  she  become  since  she  learned  that 
her  death  would  be  swift  and  easy.  '  Yes,  I  have  this  to  say, 
that  I  go  to  my  end  with  a  clean  heart,  for  if  I  have  sinned  it 
is  against  custom  and  not  against  God.  I  broke  the  vows 
indeed,  but  I  was  forced  to  take  those  vows,  and,  therefore, 
they  did  not  bind.  I  was  a  woman  born  for  light  and  love, 
and  yet  I  was  thrust  into  the  darkness  of  this  cloister,  there  to 
wither  dead  in  life.  And  so  I  broke  the  vows,  and  I  am  glad 
that  i  have  broken  them,  though  it  has  brought  me  to  this. 
If  I  was  deceived  and  my  marriage  is  no  marriage  before  the 
law  as  they  tell  me  now,  I  knew  nothing  of  it,  therefore  to 
me  it  is  still  valid  and  holy  and  on  my  soul  there  rests  no  stain. 
At  the  least  I  have  lived,  and  for  some  few  ho.urs  I  have  been 
wife  and  mother,  and  it  is  as  well  to  die  swiftly  in  this  cell  that 
your  mercy  has  prepared,  as  more  slowly  in  those  above.  And 
now  for  you — I  tell  you  that  your  wickedness  shall  find  you 
out,  you  who  dare  to  say  to  God's  children — "  Ye  shall  not 
love,"  and  to  work  murder  on  them  because  they  will  not 
listen.  It  shall  find  you  out  I  say,' and  not  only  you  but  the 
Church  you  serve.  Both  priest  and  Church  shall  be  broken 
together  and  shall  be  a  scorn  in  the  mouths  of  men  to  come.' 

*  She  is  distraught,'  said  the  Dominican  as  a  sigh  of  fear 
and  wonder  went  round  the  vault,  *  and  blasphemes  in  her 
madness.  Forget  her  words.  Shrive  her,  brother,  swiftly  ere 
she  adds  to  them.' 

Then  the  black-robed,  keen-eyed  priest  came  to  her,  and 
holding  the  cross  before  her  face,  began  to  mutter  I  know 
not  what.  But  she  rose  from  the  chair  and  thrust  the 
crucifix  aside. 


74  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

*  Peace  !  '  she  said,  *  I  will  not  be  shriven  by  such  as  you. 
1  take  my  sins  to  God  and  not  to  you — you  who  do  murder  in 
the  name  of  Christ.' 

The  fanatic  heard  and  a  fury  took  him. 

*  Then  go  unshrivej   down  to  hell,  you '  and  he  named 

her  by  ill  names  and  struck  her  in  the  face  with  the  ivory 
crucifix. 

The  Dominican  bade  him  cease  his  revilings  angrily 
enough,  but  Isabella  de  Siguenza  wiped  her  bruised  brow 
and  laughed  aloud  a  dreadful  laugh  to  hear. 

*  Now    I    see    that   you   are   a   coward   also,'    she   said. 
'  Priest,  this  is  my  last  prayer,  that  you  also  may  perish  at 
the  hands  of  fanatics,  and  more  terribly  than  I  die  to-night.' 

Then  they  hurried  her  into  the  place  prepared  for  her  and 
she  spoke  again  : 

*  Give  me  to  drink,  for  we  thirst,  my  babe  and  I ! 

Now  I  saw  the  abbess  enter  that  passage  whence  the 
victim  had  been  led.  Presently  she  came  back  bearing  a  cup 
of  water  in  her  hand  and  with  it  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  I  knew 
by  her  mien  that  my  draught  was  in  the  water.  But  of  what 
befell  afterwards  I  cannot  say  certainly,  for  I  prayed  the 
Dominican  to  open  the  door  by  which  we  had  entered  the 
vault,  and  passing  through  it  I  stood  dazed  with  horror  at 
some  distance.  A  while  went  by,  I  do  not  know  how  long,  till 
at  length  I  saw  the  abbess  standing  before  me,  a  lantern  in 
her  hand,  and  she  was  sobbing  bitterly. 

1  All  is  done,'  she  said.  '  Nay,  have  no  fear,  the  draughl 
worked  well.  Before  ever  a  stone  was  laid  mother  and  chile 
slept  sound.  Alas  for  her  soul  who  died  unrepentant  anc 
unshriven  ! ' 

'  Alas  !  for  the  souls  of  all  who  have  shared  in  this  night's 
work,'  I  answered.  '  Now,  mother,  let  me  hence,  and  may  wo 
never  meet  again  ! ' 

Then  she  led  me  back  to  the  cell,  where  I  tore  off  thao 
accursed  monk's  robe,  and  thence  to  the  door  in  the  garden 
wall  and  to  the  boat  which  still  waited  on  the  river,  and  I 
rejoiced  to  feel  the  sweet  air  upon  my  face  as  one  rejoices  who 
awakes  from  some  foul  dream.  But  I  won  little  sleep  that 
night,  nor  indeed  for  some  days  to  come.  For  whenever  I 
closed  my  eyes  there  rose  before  me  the  vision  of  that  beauteous 
woman  as  I  saw  her  last  by  the  murky  torchlight,  wrapped 
in  grave  clothes  and  standing  in  the  coffin-shaped  niche,  proud 
and  defiant  to  the  end,  her  child  clasped  to  her  with  one  arri 
while  the  other  was  outstretched  to  take  the  draught  of  death. 


THE  PASSING   OF  ISABELLA   DE  SIGUENZA     75 

Few  have  seen  such  a  sight,  for  the  Holy  Office  and  its  helpers 
do  not  seek  witnesses  to  their  dark  deeds,  and  none  would 
wish  to  see  it  twice.  If  I  have  described  it  ill,  it  is  not  that  I 
have  forgotten,  but  because  even  now,  after  the  lapse  of  some 
seventy  years,  I  can  scarcely  bear  to  write  of  it  or  to  set  out  its 
horrors  fully.  But  of  all  that  was  wonderful  about  it  perhaps 
the  most  wonderful  was  that  even  to  the  last  this  unfortunate 
lady  should  still  have  clung  to  her  love  for  the  villain  who, 
having  deceived  her  by  a  false  marriage,  deserted  her,  leaving 
her  to  such  a  doom.  To  what  end  can  so  holy  a  gift  as  this 
great  love  of  hers  have  been  bestowed  on  such  a  man  ?  None 
can  say,  but  so  it  was.  Yet  now  that  I  think  of  it,  there  is 
one  thing  even  stranger  than  her  faithfulness. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  when  the  fanatic  priest  struck 
her  she  prayed  that  he  also  might  die  at  such  hands  and  more 
terribly  than  she  must  do.  So  it  came  about.  In  after  years 
that  ver^  man,  Father  Pedro  by  name,  was  sent  to  convert 
the  heathen  of  Anahuac,  among  whom,  because  of  his  cruelty, 
he  was  known  as  the  '  Christian  Devil.'  But  it  chanced  that 
venturing  too  far  among  a  clan  of  the  Otomie  before  they  were 
finally  subdued,  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  some  priests  of  the 
war  god  Huitzel,  and  by  them  was  sacrificed  after  their  dread- 
ful fashion.  I  saw  him  as  he  went  to  his  death,  and  without 
telling  that  I  had  been  present  when  it  was  uttered,  I  called  to 
his  mind  the  dying  curse  of  Isabella  de  Siguenza.  Then  for 
a  moment  his  courage  gave  way,  for  seeing  in  me  nothing  but 
an  Indian  chief,  he  believed  that  the  devil  had  put  the  words 
into  my  lips  to  torment  him,  causing  me  to  speak  of  what  I 
knew  nothing.  But  enough  of  this  now  ;  if  it  is  necessary  I 
will  tell  of  it  in  its  proper  place.  At  least,  whether  it  was 
by  chance,  or  because  she  had  a  gift  of  vision  in  her  last 
hours,  or  that  Providence  was  avenged  on  him  after  this 
fashion,  so  it  came  about,  and  I  do  not  sorrow  for  it,  though 
the  death  of  this  priest  brought  much  misfortune  on  me. 

This  then  was  the  end  of  Isabella  de  Siguenza  who  was 
murdered  by  priests  because  she  had  dared  to  break  their  rule. 

So  soon  as  I  could  clear  my  mind  somewhat  of  all  that 
I  had  seen  and  heard  in  that  dreadful  vault,  I  began  to 
consider  the  circumstances  in  which  I  found  myself.  In  the 
first  place  I  was  now  a  rich  man,  and  if  it  pleased  me  to 
go  back  to  Norfolk  with  my  wealth,  as  Fonseca  had  pointed 
out,  my  prospects  were  fair  indeed.  But  the  oath  that  I 
had  taken  hung  like  lead  about  ruy  neck.  I  had  sworn  to  be 


76  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

avenged  upon  de  Garcia,  and  I  had  prayed  that  the  curse  o: 
heaven  might  rest  upon  me  till  I  was  so  avenged,  but  in  Englanc 
living  in  peace  and  plenty  I  could  scarcely  come  by  vengeance 
Moreover,  now  I  knew  where  he  was,  or  at  least  in  what  por- 
tion of  the  world  I  might  seek  him,  and  there  where  white  mer 
are  few  he  could  not  hide  from  me  as  in  Spain.  This  tiding!- 
I  had  gained  from  the  doomed  lady,  and  I  have  told  her  storj 
at  some  length  because  it  was  through  it  and  her  that  I  came 
to  journey  to  Hispaniola,  as  it  was  because  of  the  sacrifice  oi 
her  tormentor,  Father  Pedro,  by  the  priests  of  the  Otomie  thai 
I  am  here  in  England  this  day,  since  had  it  not  been  for  thai 
sacrifice  the  Spaniards  would  never  have  stormed  the  City  oJ 
Pines,  where,  alive  or  dead,  I  should  doubtless  have  been  tc 
this  hour ;  for  thus  do  seeming  accidents  build  up  the  fates  oi 
men.  Had  those  words  never  passed  Isabella's  lips,  doubtless 
in  time  I  should  have  wearied  of  a  useless  search  and  sailed 
for  home  and  happiness.  But  having  heard  them  it  seemed  tc 
me,  to  my  undoing,  that  this  would  be  to  play  the  part  of  a 
sorry  coward.  Moreover,  strange  as  it  may  look,  now  I  felt 
as  though  I  had  two  wrongs  to  avenge,  that  of  my  mothei 
and  that  of  Isabella  de  Siguenza.  Indeed  none  could  have 
seen  that  young  and  lovely  lady  die  thus  terribly  and  not  desire 
to  wreak  her  death  on  him  who  had  betrayed  and  deserted  her. 

So  the  end  of  it  was  that  being  of  a  stubborn  temper,  I 
determined  to  do  violence  to  my  own  desires  and  the  dying 
counsels  of  my  benefactor,  and  to  follow  de  Garcia  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth  and  there  to  kill  him  as  I  had  sworn  to  do. 

First,  however,  I  inquired  secretly  and  diligently  as  to  the 
truth  of  the  statement  that  de  Garcia  had  sailed  for  the  Indies, 
and  to  be  brief,  having  the  clue,  I  discovered  that  two  days 
after  the  date  of  the  duel  I  had  fought  with  him,  a  man 
answering  to  de  Garcia's  description,  though  bearing  a  different 
name,  had  shipped  from  Seville  in  a  carak  bound  for  the  Canary 
Islands,  which  carak  was  there  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  fleet 
sailing  for  Hispaniola.  Indeed  from  various  circumstances  I 
had  little  doubt  that  the  man  was  none  other  than  de  Garcia 
himself,  which,  although  I  had  not  thought  of  it  before,  was  not 
strange,  seeing  that  then  as  now  the  Indies  were  the  refuge  oi 
half  the  desperadoes  and  villains  who  could  no  longer  live  in 
Spain.  Thither  then  I  made  up  my  mind  to  follow  him,  con- 
soling myself  a  little  by  the  thought  that  at  least  I  should  see 
new  and  wonderful  countries,  though  how  new  and  wonderful 
they  were  I  did  not  guess. 

Now  it  remained  for  me  to  dispose  of  the  wealth  which  had 


THE  PASSING   OF  ISABELLA   DE  SIGUENZA     77 

come  to  me  suddenly.  While  I  was  wondering  how  I  could 
place  it  in  safety  till  my  return,  I  heard  by  chance  that  the 
'  Adventuress '  of  Yarmouth,  the  same  ship  in  which  I  had 
come  to  Spain  a  year  before,  was  again  in  the  port  of  Cadiz, 
and  I  bethought  me  that  the  best  thing  I  could  do  with  the 
gold  and  other  articles  of  value  would  be  to  ship  them  to 
England,  there  to  be  held  in  trust  for  me.  So  having  de- 
spatched a  message  to  my  friend  the  captain  of  the  *  Adven- 
turess,' that  I  had  freight  of  value  for  him,  I  made  my  pre- 
parations to  depart  from  Seville  with  such  speed  as  I  might, 
and  to  this  end  I  sold  my  benefactor's  house,  with  many  of  the 
effects,  at  a  price  much  below  their  worth.  The  most  of  the 
books  and  plate,  together  with  some  other  articles,  I  kept,  and 
packing  them  in  cases,  I  caused  them  to  be  transported  down 
the  river  to  Cadiz,  to  the  care  of  those  same  agents  to  whom  I 
had  received  letters  from  the  Yarmouth  merchants. 

This  being  done  I  followed  thither  myself,  taking  the  bulk 
of  my  fortune  with  me  in  gold,  which  I  hid  artfully  in 
numerous  packages.  And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  after  a 
stay  of  a  year  in  Seville,  I  turned  my  back  on  it  for  ever. 
My  sojourn  there  had  been  fortunate,  for  I  came  to  it  poor  and 
left  it  a  rich  man,  to  say  nothing  of  what  I  had  gained  in 
experience,  which  was  much.  Yet  I  was  glad  to  be  gone,  for 
here  Juan  de  Garcia  had  escaped  me,  here  I  had  lost  my  best 
friend  and  seen  Isabella  de  Siguenza  die. 

I  came  to  Cadiz  in  safety  and  without  loss  of  any  of  my 
goods  or  gold,  and  taking  boat  proceeded  on  board  the 
Adventuress,'  where  I  found  her  captain,  whose  name  was 
Bell,  in  good  health  and  very  glad  to  see  me.  What  pleased 
me  more,  however,  was  that  he  had  three  letters  for  me,  one 
from  my  father,  one  from  my  sister  Mary,  and  one  from  my  be- 
trothed, Lily  Bozard,  the  only  letter  I  ever  received  from  her. 
The  contents  of  these  writings  were  not  altogether  pleasing 
however,  for  I  learned  from  them  that  my  father  was  in  broken 
health  and  almost  bedridden,  and  indeed,  though  I  did  not 
know  it  for  many  years  after,  he  died  in  Ditchingham  Church 
upon  the  very  day  that  I  received  his  letter.  It  was  short 
and  sad,  and  in  it  he  said  that  he  sorrowed  much  that  he  had 
allowed  me  to  go  upon  my  mission,  since  he  should  see  me  no 
more  and  could  only  commend  me  to  the  care  of  the  Almighty, 
and  pray  Him  for  my  safe  return.  As  for  Lily's  letter,  which, 
hearing  that  the  *  Adventuress  '  was  to  sail  for  Cadiz,  she  had 
found  means  to  despatch  secretly,  though  it  was  not  short 
it  was  sad  also,  and  told  me  that  so  soon  as  my  back  was 


78  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

turned  on  home,  my  brother  Geoffrey  had  asked  her  in  marriage 
from  her  father,  and  that  they  pushed  the  matter  strongly,  so 
that  her  life  was  made  a  misery  to  her,  for  my  brother  way- 
laid her  everywhere,  and  her  father  did  not  cease  to  revile  her 
as  an  obstinate  jade  who  would  fling  away  her  fortune  for  the 
sake  of  a  penniless  wanderer. 

'  But,'  it  went  on,  '  be  assured,  sweetheart,  that  unless 
they  marry  me  by  force,  as  they  have  threatened  to  do,  I  will 
not  budge  from  my  promise.  And,  Thomas,  should  I  be 
wedded  thus  against  my  will,  I  shall  not  be  a  wife  for  long, 
for  though  I  am  strong  I  believe  that  I  shall  die  of  shame 
and  sorrow.  It  is  hard  that  I  should  be  thus  tormented,  and 
for  one  reason  only,  that  you  are  not  rich.  Still  I  have  good 
hope  that  things  may  better  themselves,  for  I  see  that  mj 
brother  Wilfred  is  much  inclined  towards  your  sister  Mary, 
and  though  he  also  urges  this  marriage  on  me  to-day,  she  is  a 
friend  to  both  of  us  and  may  be  in  the  way  to  make  terms 
with  him  before  she  accepts  his  suit.'  Then  the  writing  endec 
with  many  tender  words  and  prayers  for  my  safe  return. 

As  for  the  letter  from  my  sister  Mary  it  was  to  the  same 
purpose.  As  yet,  she  said,  she  could  do  nothing  for  me  with 
Lily  Bozard,  for  my  brother  Geoffrey  was  mad  with  love  foi 
her,  my  father  was  too  ill  to  meddle  in  the  matter,  anc 
Squire  Bozard  was  fiercely  set  upon  the  marriage  because  o 
the  lands  that  were  at  stake.  Still,  she  hinted,  things  migh1 
not  always  be  so,  as  a  time  might  come  when  she  could  speal 
up  for  me  and  not  in  vain. 

Now  all  this  news  gave  me  much  cause  for  thought. 
More  indeed,  it  awoke  in  me  a  longing  for  home  which  was  so 
strong  that  it  grew  almost  to  a  sickness.  Her  loving  wordis 
and  the  perfume  that  hung  about  the  letter  of  my  betrothed 
brought  Lily  back  to  me  in  such  sort  that  my  heart  ached  with 
a  desire  to  be  with  her.  Moreover  I  knew  that  I  should  bo 
welcome  now,  for  my  fortune  was  far  greater  than  my 
brother's  would  ever  be,  and  parents  do  not  show  the  door  to 
suitors  who  bring  more  than  twelve  thousand  golden  piece  5 
in  their  baggage.  Also  I  wished  to  see  my  father  again  before 
he  passed  beyond  my  reach.  But  still  between  me  and  my 
desire  lay  the  shadow  of  de  Garcia  and  my  oath.  I  hail 
brooded  on  vengeance  for  so  long  that  I  felt  even  in  the 
midst  of  this  strong  temptation  that  I  should  have  no 
pleasure  in  my  life  if  I  forsook  my  quest.  To  be  happy  [ 
must  first  kill  de  Garcia.  Moreover  I  had  come  to  believe 
that  did  I  so  forsake  it  the  curse  which  I  had  invoked  would 
surely  fall  upon  me. 


THE  PASSING   OF  ISABELLA   DE  SIGUENZA     79 

Meanwhile  I  did  this.  Going  to  a  notary  I  caused  him 
to  prepare  a  deed  which  I  translated  into  English.  By  this 
deed  I  vested  all  my  fortune,  except  two  hundred  pesos  that 
I  kept  for  my  own  use,  in  three  persons  to  hold  the  same  on 
my  behalf  till  I  came  to  claim  it.  Those  three  persons  were 
my  old  master,  Doctor  Grimstone  of  Bungay,  whom  I  knew 
for  the  honestest  of  men,  my  sister  Mary  Wingfield,  and  my 
betrothed,  Lily  Bozard.  I  directed  them  by  this  deed,  which 
for  greater  validity  I  signed  upon  the  ship  and  caused  to 
be  witnessed  by  Captain  Bell  and  two  other  Englishmen,  to 
deal  with  the  property  according  to  their  discretion,  investing 
not  less  than  half  of  it  in  the  purchase  of  lands  and  putting 
the  rest  out  to  interest,  which  interest  with  the  rent  of  the 
lands  was  to  be  paid  to  the  said  Lily  Bozard  for  her  own  use 
for  so  long  as  she  remained  unmarried. 

Also  with  the  deed  I  executed  a  will  by  which  I  devised 
the  most  of  my  property  to  Lily  Bozard  should  she  be  un- 
married at  the  date  of  my  death,  and  the  residue  to  my  sister 
Mary.  In  the  event  of  the  marriage  or  death  of  Lily,  then  the 
whole  was  to  pass  to  Mary  and  her  heirs. 

These  two  documents  being  signed  and  sealed,  I  delivered 
them,  together  with  all  my  treasure  and  other  goods,  into  the 
keeping  of  Captain  Bell,  charging  him  solemnly  to  hand  them 
and  my  possessions  to  Dr.  Grimstone  of  Bungay,  by  whom  he 
would  be  liberally  rewarded.  This  he  promised  to  do,  though 
not  until  he  had  urged  me  almost  with  tears  to  accompany 
them  myself. 

With  the  gold  and  the  deeds  I  sent  several  letters  ;  to  my 
father,  my  sister,  my  brother,  Dr.  Grimstone,  Squire  Bozard, 
and  lastly  to  Lily  herself.  In  these  letters  I  gave  an  account 
of  my  life  and  fortunes  since  I  had  come  to  Spain,  for  I 
gathered  that  others  which  I  had  sent  had  never  reached 
•  England,  and  told  them  of  my  resolution  to  follow  de  Garcia 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

*  Others,'  I  wrote  to  Lily,  '  may  think  me  a  madman  thus 
to  postpone,  or  perchance  to  lose,  a  happiness  which  I  desire 
above  anything  on  earth,  but  you  who  understand  my  heart 
will  not  blame  me,  however  much  you  may  grieve  for  my  deci- 
sion. You  will  know  that  when  once  I  have  set  my  mind 
upon  an  object,  nothing  except  death  itself  can  turn  me  from 
it,  and  that  in  this  matter  I  am  bound  by  an  oath  which  my 
conscience  will  not  suffer  me  to  break.  I  could  never  be 
happy  even  at  your  side  if  I  abandoned  my  search  now.  First 
must  come  the  toil  and  then  the  rest,  first  the  sorrow  and 
then  the  joy.  Do  not  fear  for  me,  I  feel  that  I  shall  live  to 


So  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 


return  again,  and  if  I  do  not  return,  at  least  I  am  able  to  pro- 
vide for  you  in  .such  fashion  that  you  need  never  be  marriec 
against  your  will.  While  de  Garcia  lives  I  must  follow 
him.' 

To  my  brother  Geoffrey  I  wrote  very  shortly,  telling  him 
what  I  thought  of  his-  conduct  in  persecuting  an  undefended 
maiden  and  striving  to  do  wrong  to  an  absent  brother.  ] 
have  heard  that  my  letter  pleased  him  very  ill. 

And  here  I  may  state  that  those  letters  and  everything 
else  that  I  sent  came  safely  to  Yarmouth.  There  the  gold 
and  goods  were  taken  to  Lowestoft  and  put  aboard  a  wherry, 
and  when  he  had  discharged  his  ship,  Captain  Bell  sailed  up 
the  Waveney  with  them  till  he  brought  them  to  Bungaj 
Staithe  and  thence.to  the  house  of  Dr.  Grimstone  in  Nethergate 
Street.  Here  were  gathered  my  sister  and  brother,  for  m> 
father  was  then  two  months  buried — and  also  Squire  Bozard 
and  his  son  and  daughter,  for  Captain  Bell  had  advised  them 
of  his  coming  by  messenger,  and  when  all  the  tale  was  told 
there  was  wonder  and  to  spare.  Still  greater  did  it  grow 
when  the  chests  were  opened  and  the  weight  of  bullion 
compared  with  that  set  out  in  my  letters,  for  there  had  never 
been  so  much  gold  at  once  in  Bungay  within  the  memory  ol 
man. 

And  now  Lily  wept,  first  for  joy  because  of  my  good 
fortune,  and  then  for  sorrow  because  I  had  not  come  with  my 
treasure,  and  when  he  had  seen  all  and  heard  the  deeds  read 
by  virtue  of  which  Lily  was  a  rich  woman  whether  I  lived  or 
died,  the  Squire  her  father  sworo  aloud  and  said  that  he  had 
always  thought  well  of  me,  and  kissed  his  daughter,  wishing 
her  joy  of  her  luck.  In  short  all  were  pleased  except  my 
brother,  who  left  the  house  without  a  word  and  straightway 
took  to  evil  courses.  For  now  the  cup  was  dashed  from  his 
lips,  seeing  that  having  come  into  my  father's  lands,  he  had 
brought  it  about  that  Lily  was  to  be  married  to  him  by  might 
if  no  other  means  would  serve.  For  even  now  a  man  can 
force  his  daughter  into  marriage  while  she  is  under  age,  and 
Squire  Bozard  was  not  one  to  shrink  from  such  a  deed,, 
holding  as  he  did  that  a  woman's  fancies  were  of  no  account. 
But  on  this  day,  so  great  is  the  power  of  gold,  there  was  no  more 
talk  of  her  marrying  any  man  except  myself,  indeed  her  father 
would  have  held  her  back  from  such  a  thing  had  she  shown  a 
mind  to  it,  seeing  that  then  Lily  would  have  lost  the  wealth 
which  I  had  settled  on  her.  But  all  talked  loudly  of  my 
madness  because  I  would  not  abandon  the  chase  of  my  enemy 


THE  PASSING  Or  ISABELLA  DE  SIGUENZA     81 

but  chose  to  follow  him  to  the  far  Indies,  though  Squire 
Bozard  took  comfort  from  the  thought  that  whether  I  lived  or 
died  the  money  was  still  his  daughter's.  Only  Lily  spoke  up 
for  me,  saying  '  Thomas  has  sworn  an  oath  and  he  does  well 
to  keep  it,  for  his  honour  is  at  stake.  Now  I  go  to  wait  until 
he  conies  to  me  in  this  world  or  the  next.' 

But  all  this  is  out  of  place,  for  many  a  year  passed  away 
before  I  heard  of  these  doings. 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE    LOSS   OF   THE    CABAK 

ON  the  day  after  I  had  given  my  fortune  and  letters  into  the 
charge  of  Captain  Bell,  I  watched  the  *  Adventuress '  drop 
slowly  round  the  mole  of  Cadiz,  and  so  sad  was  I  at  heart, 
that  I  am  not  ashamed  to  confess  I  wept.  I  would  gladly 
have  given  the  wealth  she  carried  if  she  had  but  carried  me. 
But  my  purpose  was  indomitable,  and  it  must  be  some  other 
ship  that  would  bear  me  home  to  the  shores  of  England. 

As  it  chanced,  a  large  Spanish  carak  named  'Las  Cinque 
Llagas,'  or  •  The  Five  Wounds,'  was  about  to  sail  for  Hispaniola, 
and  having  obtained  a  licence  to  trade,  I  took  passage  in  her 
under  my  assumed  name  of  d'Aila,  passing  myself  off  as  a 
merchant.  To  further  this  deception  I  purchased  goods  to  the 
value  of  one  hundred  and  five  pesos,  and  of  such  nature  as  I 
was  informed  were  most  readily  saleable  in  the  Indies,  which 
merchandise  I  shipped  with  me.  The  vessel  was  full  of  Spanish 
adventurers,  mostly  ruffians  of  varied  career  and  strange  history, 
but  none  the  less  good  companions  enough  when  not  in  drink. 
By  this  time  I  could  speak  Castilian  so  perfectly,  and  was  so 
Spanish  in  appearance,  that  it  was  not  difficult  for  me  to  pass 
myself  off  as  one  of  their  nation,  and  this  I  did,  inventing  a 
feigned  tale  of  my  parentage,  and  of  the  reasons  that  led  me 
to  |empt  the  seas.  For  the  rest,  now  as  ever  I  kept  my  own 
counsel,  and  notwithstanding  my  reserve,  for  I  would  not 
mingle  in  their  orgies,  I  soon  became  well  liked  by  my  comrades, 
chiefly  because  of  my  skill  in  ministering  to  their  sicknesses. 

Of  our  voyage  there  is  little  to  tell  except  of  its  sad  end. 
At  the  Canary  Isles  we  stayed  a  month,  and  then  sailed  away 
for  Hispaniola,  meeting  with  fine  weather  but  light  winds. 
When,  as  our  captain  reckoned,  we  were  within  a  week's  sail 

a 


82  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

of  the  port  of  San  Domingo  for  which  we  were  bound,  the 
weather  changed,  and  presently  gathered  to  a  furious  tempest 
from  the  north  that  grew  more  terrible  every  hour.  For  three 
days  and  nights  our  cumbrous  vessel  groaned  and  laboured 
beneath  the  stress  of  the  gale,  that  drove  us  on  rapidly  we 
knew  not  whither,  till  at  length  it  became  clear  that,  unless 
the  weather  moderated,  we  must  founder.  Our  ship  leaked  at 
every  seam,  one  of  our  masts  was  carried  away,  and  another 
broken  in  two,  at  a  height  of  twenty  feet  from  the  deck.  But 
all  these  misfortunes  were  small  compared  to  what  was  to 
come,  for  on  the  fourth  morning  a  great  wa~7e  swept  off  our 
rudder,  and  we  drifted  helpless  before  the  waves.  An  houi 
later  a  green  sea  came  aboard  of  us,  washing  away  the  captain, 
so  that  we  filled  and  settled  down  to  founder. 

Then  began  a  most  horrid  scene.  For  several  days  both  the 
crew  and  passengers  had  been  drinking  heavily  to  allay  theii 
terror,  and  now  that  they  saw  their  end  at  hand,  they  rushed 
to  and  fro  screaming,  praying,  and  blaspheming.  Such  ol 
them  as  remained  sober  began  to  get  out  the  two  boats,  intc 
which  I  and  another  man,  a  worthy  priest,  strove  to  place  the 
women  and  children,  of  whom  we  had  several  on  board.  Bui 
this  was  no  easy  task,  for  the  drunken  sailors  pushed  there 
aside  and  tried  to  spring  into  the  boats,  the  first  of  which  over- 
turned, so  that  all  were  lost.  Just  then  the  carak  gave  a  lurcl: 
before  she  sank,  and,  seeing  that  everything  was  over,  I  callec 
to  the  priest  to  follow  me,  and  springing  into  the  sea  I  swam  f  0] 
the  second  boat,  which,  laden  with  some  shrieking  women,  hac 
drifted  loose  in  the  confusion.  As  it  chanced  I  reached  it  safely 
being  a  strong  swimmer,  and  was  able  to  rescue  the  priest  befon 
he  sank.  Then  the  vessel  reared  herself  up  on  her  stern  anc. 
floated  thus  for  a  minute  or  more,  which  gave  us  time  to  ge'i 
out  the  oars  and  row  some  fathoms  further  away  from  her. 
Scarcely  had  we  done  so,  when,  with  one  wild  and  fearful 
scream  from  those  on  board  of  her,  she  rushed  down  into  tho 
depths  below,  nearly  taking  us  with  her.  For  a  while  we  sa: 
silent,  for  our  horror  overwhelmed  us,  but  when  the  whirl- 
pool which  she  made  had  ceased  to  boil,  we  rowed  back  to 
where  the  carak  had  been.  Now  all  the  sea  was  strewn  with 
wreckage,  but  among  it  we  found  only  one  child  living  thab 
had  clung  to  an  oar.  The  rest,  some  two  hundred  souls,  had 
been  sucked  down  with  the  ship  and  perished  miserably,  or  if 
there  were  any  still  living,  we  could  not  find  them  in  that 
weltering  sea  over  which  the  darkness  was  falling. 

Indeed,  it  was  well  for  our  own  safety  that  we  failed  in 


THE  LOSS   OF  THE  CARAfC  $3 

so  doing,  for  the  little  boat  had  ten  souls  on  board  in  all, 
which  was  as  many  as  she  could  carry — the  priest  and  I  being 
the  only  men  among  them.  I  have  said  that  the  darkness  was 
falling,  and  as  it  chanced  happily  for  us,  so  was  the  sea,  or 
assuredly  we  must  have  been  swamped.  All  that  we  could  do 
was  to  keep  the  boat's  head  straight  to  the  waves,  and  this  we 
did  through  the  long  night.  It  was  a  strange  thing  to  see,  or 
rather  to  hear,  that  good  man  the  priest  my  companion,  con- 
fessing the  women  one  by  one  as  he  laboured  at  his  oar,  and 
when  all  were  shriven  sending  up  prayers  to  God  for  the  sal- 
vation of  our  souls,  for  of  the  safety  of  our  bodies  we  despaired. 
What  I  felt  may  well  be  imagined,  but  I  forbear  to  describe  it, 
seeing  that,  bad  as  was  my  case,  there  were  worse  ones 
before  me  of  which  1  shall  have  to  tell  in  their  season. 

At  length  the  night  wore  away,  and  the  dawn  broke  upon 
the  desolate  sea.  Presently  the  sun  came  up,  for  which  at 
first  we  were  thankful,  for  we  were  chilled  to  the  bone,  but 
soon  its  heat  grew  intolerable,  since  we  had  neither  food  nor 
water  in  the  boat,  and  already  we  were  parched  with  thirst. 
But  now  the  wind  had  fallen  to  a  steady  breeze,  and  with  the 
help  of  the  oars  and  a  blanket,  we  contrived  to  fashion  a  sail 
that  drew  us  through  the  water  at  a  good  speed.  But  the 
ocean  was  vast,  and  we  did  not  know  whither  we  were  sailing, 
and  every  hour  the  agony  of  thirst  pressed  us  more  closely.  To- 
wards mid- day  a  child  died  suddenly  and  was  thrown  into  the 
sea,  and  some  three  hours  later  the  mother  filled  a  bailing 
bowl  and  drank  deep  of  the  bitter  water.  For  a  while  it 
seemed  to  assuage  her  thirst,  then  suddenly  a  madness  took 
her,  and  springing  up  she  cast  herself  overboard  and  sank. 
Before  the  sun,  glowing  like  a  red-hot  ball,  had  sunk  beneath 
the  horizon,  the  priest  and  I  were  the  only  ones  in  that  com- 
pany who  could  sit  upright — the  rest  lay  upon  the  bottom  of 
the  boat  heaped  one  on  another  like  dying  fish,  groaning 
in  their  misery.  Night  fell  at  last  and  brought  us  some  relief 
from  our  sufferings,  for  the  air  grew  cooler.  But  the  rain  we 
prayed  for  did  not  fall,  and  so  great  was  the  heat  that,  when 
the  sun  rose  again  in  a  cloudless  sky,  we  knew,  if  no  help 
reached  us,  that  it  must  be  the  last  which  we  should  see. 

An  hour  after  dawn  another  child  died,  and  as  we  were  in 
the  act  of  casting  the  body  into  the  sea,  I  looked  up  and  saw 
a  vessel  far  away,  that  seemed  to  be  sailing  in  such  fashion 
that  she  would  pass  within  two  miles  of  where  we  were.  Re- 
turning thanks  to  God  for  this  most  blessed  sight,  we  took  to 
the  oars,  for  the  wind  was  now  so  light  that  our  clumsy  sail 

G  2 


4 
84  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

would  no  longer  draw  us  through  the  water,  and  rowed  feebly 
so  as  to  cut  the  pa.th  of  the  ship.  When  we  had  laboured  for 
more  than  an  hour  the  wind  fell  altogether  and  the  vessel  lay 
becalmed  at  a  distance  of  about  three  miles.  So  the  priest 
and  I  rowed  on  till  I  thought  that  we  must  die  in  the  boat, 
for  the  heat  of  the  sun  was  like  that  of  a  flame  and  there 
came  no  wind  to  temper  it ;  by  now,  too,  our  lips  were  cracked 
with  thirst.  Still  we  struggled  on  till  the  shadow  of  the  ship's 
masts  fell  athwart  us  and  we  saw  her  sailors  watching  us 
from  the  deck.  Now  we  were  alongside  and  they  let  down  a 
ladder  of  rope,  speaking  to  us  in  Spanish. 

How  we  reached  the  deck  I  cannot  say,  but  I  remember  fall- 
ing beneath  the  shade  of  an  awning  and  drinking  cup  after  cup 
of  the  water  that  was  brought  to  me.  At  last  even  my  thirst 
was  satisfied,  and  for  a  while  I  grew  faint  and  dizzy,  and  had 
no  stomach  for  the  meat  which  was  thrust  into  my  hand. 
Indeed,  I  think  that  I  must  have  tainted,  for  when  I  came  tc 
myself  the  sun  was  straight  overhead,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  had  dreamed  I  heard  a  familiar  and  hateful  voice.  Ai 
the  time  I  was  alone  beneath  the  awning,  for  the  crew  of  the 
ship  were  gathered  on  the  fore-deck  clustering  round  whal 
appeared  to  be  the  body  of  a  man.  By  my  side  was  a  large 
plate  of  victuals  and  a  flask  of  spirits,  and  feeling  stronger  ] 
ate  and  drank  of  them  heartily.  I  had  scarcely  finished  m} 
meal  when  the  men  on  the  foredeck  lifted  the  body  of  the 
man,  which  I  saw  was  black  in  colour,  and  cast  it  overboard 
Then  three  of  them,  whom  from  their  port  I  took  to  be  officers, 
came  towards  me  and  I  rose  to  my  feet  to  meet  them. 

'  Senor,'  said  the  tallest  of  them  in  a  soft  and  gentle  voice, 

'  suffer  me  to  offer  you  our  felicitations  on  your  wonderful ' 

and  he  stopped  suddenly. 

Did  I  still  dream,  or  did  I  know  the  voice  ?  Now  for  the 
first  time  I  could  see  the  man's  face — it  was  that  of  Juan  di 
Garcia !  But  if  I  knew  him  he  also  knew  me. 

*  Caramba !  '    he    said,  '  whom   have   we   here  ?      Seilor 
Thomas  Wingfield  I  salute   you.     Look,  my  comrades,  yo1! 
see  this  young  man  whom  the  sea  has  brought  to  us.    He  is  nD 
Spaniard  but  an  English  spy.     The  last  time  that  I  saw  bin 
was  in  the  streets  of  Seville,  and  there  he  tried  to  murder  me 
because  I  threatened  to  reveal  his  trade  to  the  authorities. 
Now  he  is  here,  upon  what  errand  he  knows  best.' 

*  It  is  false,'  I  answered ;  'I  am  no  spy,  and  I  am  come 
to  these  seas  for  one  purpose  only— to  find  you.' 

'*  Then  you  have  succeeded  well,  too  well  for  your  own 


'Look,  my  comrades     He  is  no  Spaniard,  "but  an  English  spy.' 


THE   LOSS  OF  THE  CARAK  85 

comfort,  perhaps.  Say  now,  do  you  deny  that  you  are 
Thomas  Wingfield  and  an  Englishman  ?  ' 

1 1  do  not  deny  it.     I ' 

'Your  pardon.  How  comes  it  then  that,  as  your  com- 
panion the  priest  tells  me,  you  sailed  in  Las  Cinque  Llagas 
under  the  name  of  d'Aila  ?  ' 

*  For  my  own  reasons,  Juan  de  Garcia.' 

'You  are  confused,  senor.  My  name  is  Sarceda,  as  these 
gentlemen  can  bear  me  witness.  Once  I  knew  a  cavalier  of 
the  name  of  de  Garcia,  but  he  is  dead.' 

'  You  lie,'  I  answered ;  whereon  one  of  de  Garcia's  com- 
panions struck  me  across  the  mouth. 

'  Gently,  friend,'  said  de  Garcia ;  '  do  not  defile  your  hand 
by  striking  such  rats  as  this,  or  if  you  must  strike,  use  a  stick. 
You  have  heard  that  he  confesses  to  passing  under  a  false 
name  and  to  being  an  Englishman,  and  therefore  one  of  our 
country's  foes.  To  this  I  add  upon  my  word  of  honour  that 
to  my  knowledge  he  is  a  spy  and  a  would-be  murderer.  Now, 
gentlemen,  under  the  commission  of  his  majesty's  representa- 
tive, we  are  judges  here,  but  since  you  may  think  that,  having 
been  called  a  liar  openly  by  this'  English  dog,  I  might  be 
minded  to  deal  unjustly  with  him,  I  prefer  to  leave  the  matter 
in  your  hands.' 

Now  I  tried  to  speak  once  more,  but  the  Spaniard  who 
had  struck  me,  a  ferocious-looking  villain,  drew  his  sword  and 
swore  that  he  would  run  me  through  if  I  dared  to  open  my 
lips.  So  I  thought  it  well  to  keep  silent. 

1  This  Englishman  would  grace  a  yardarm  very  well,'  he 
said. 

De  Garcia,  who  had  begun  to  hum  a  tune  indifferently, 
smiled,  looking  first  at  the  yard  and  then  at  my  neck,  and 
the  hate  in  his  eyes  seemed  to  burn  me. 

'  I  have  a  better  thought  than  that,'  said  the  third  officer. 
'  If  we  hung  him  questions  might  be  asked,  and  at  the  least,  it 
would  be  a  waste  of  good  money.  He  is  a  finely  built  young 
man  and  would  last  some  years  in  the  mines.  Let  him  be 
sold  with  the  rest  of  the  cargo,  or  I  will  take  him  myself  at  a 
valuation.  I  am  in  want  of  a  few  such  on  my  estate.' 

At  these  words  I  saw  de  Garcia's  face  fall  a  little,  for  he 
wished  to  be  rid  of  me  for  ever.  Still  he  did  not  think  it 
politic  to  interfere  beyond  saying  with  a  slight  yawn  : 

'  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  take  him,  comrade,  and  free  of 
cost.  Only  I  warn  you,  watch  him  well  or  you  will  find  a 
stiletto  in  your  back.' 


86  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

The  officer  laughed  and  said  :  «  Our  friend  will  scarcely  gei 
a  chance  at  me,  for  I  do  not  go*  a  hundred  paces  underground, 
where  he  will  find  his  quarters.  And  now,  Englishman! 
there  is  room  for  you  below  I  think ; '  and  he  called  to  a  sailoi 
bidding  him  bring  the  irons  of  the  man  who  had  died. 

This  was  done,  and  after  I  had  been  searched  and  a  small 
sum  in  gold  that  I  had  upon  my  person  taken  from  me— il 
was  all  that  remained  to  me  of  my  possessions — fetters  were 
placed  upon  my  ankles  and  round  my  neck,  and  I  was  dragged 
into  the  hold.  Before  I  reached  it  I  knew  from  various  signs 
what  was  the  cargo  of  this  ship.  She  was  laden  with  slaves 
captured  in  Fernandina,  as  the  Spaniards  name  the  island 
of  Cuba,  that  were  to  be  sold  in  Hispaniola.  Among  thest 
slaves  I  was  now  numbered. 

How  to  tell  the  horrors  of  that  hold  I  know  not.  The 
place  was  low,  not  more  than  seven  feet  in  height,  and  the 
slaves  lay  ironed  in  the  bilge  water  on  the  bottom  of  the 
vessel.  They  were  crowded  as  thick  as  they  could  lie,  being 
chained  to  rings  fixed  in  the  sides  of  the  ship.  Altogether 
there  may  have  been  two  hundred  of  them,  men  women 
and  children,  or  rather  there  had  been  two  hundred  when 
the  ship  sailed  a  week  before.  Now  some  twenty  were  dead, 
which  was  a  small  number,  since  the  Spaniards  reckon  to 
lose  from  a  third  to  half  of  their  cargo  in  this  devilish 
traffic.  When  I  entered  the  place  a  deadly  sickness  seized 
me,  weak  as  I  was,  brought  on  by  the  horrible  sounds  and 
smells,  and  the  sights  that  I  saw  in  the  flare  of  the  lanterns 
which  my  conductors  carried,  for  the  hold  was  shut  off  from 
light  and  air.  But  they  dragged  me  along  and  presently  I 
found  myself  chained  in  the  midst  of  a  line  of  black  men 
and  women,  my  feet  resting  in  the  bilge  water.  There  the 
Spaniards  left  me  with  a  jeer,  saying  that  this  was  too  good 
a  bed  for  an  Englishman  to  lie  on.  For  a  while  I  endured, 
then  sleep  or  insensibility  came  to  my  succour,  and  I  sank  into 
oblivion,  and  so  I  must  have  remained  for  a  day  and  a  night. 

When  I  awoke  it  was  to  find  the  Spaniard  to  whom  I  had 
been  sold  or  given,  standing  near  me  with  a  lantern  and 
directing  the  removal  of  the  fetters  from  a  woman  who  was 
chained  next  to  me.  She  was  dead,  and  in  the  light  of  the 
lantern  I  could  see  that  she  had  been  carried  off  by  some 
horrible  disease  that  was  new  to  me,  but  which  I  afterwards 
learned  to  know  by  the  name  of  the  Black  Vomit.  Nor  was 
she  the  only  one,  for  I  counted  twenty  dead  who  were  dragged 


THE  LOSS   OF  THE   CARAK  87 

out  in  succession,  and  I  could  see  that  many  more  were  sick. 
Also  I  saw  that  the  Spaniards  were  not  a  little  frightened, 
for  they  could  make  nothing  of  this  sickness,  and  strove  to 
lessen  it  by  cleansing  the  hold  and  letting  air  into  it  by 
the  removal  of  some  planks  in  the  deck  above.  Had  they  not 
done  this  I  believe  that  every  soul  of  us  must  have  perished, 
and  I  set  down  my  own  escape  from  the  sickness  to  the  fact 
that  the  largest  opening  in  the  deck  was  made  directly 
above  my  head,  so  that  by  standing  up,  which  my  chains 
allowed  me  to  do,  I  could  breathe  air  that  was  almost  pure. 

Having  distributed  water  and  meal  cakes,  the  Spaniards 
went  away.  I  drank  greedily  of  the  water,  but  the  cakes  I  could 
not  eat,  for  they  were  mouldy.  The  sights  and  sounds  around 
me  were  so  awful  that  I  will  not  try  to  write  of  them. 

And  all  the  while  we  sweltered  in  the  terrible  heat,  for  the 
sun  pierced  through  the  deck  planking  of  the  vessel,  and 
I  could  feel  by  her  la"k  of  motion  that  we  were  becalmed 
and  drifting.  I  stood  up,  and  by  resting  my  heels  upon  a 
rib  of  the  ship  and  my  back  against  her  side,  I  found  myself 
in  a  position  whence  I  could  see  the  feet  of  the  passers-by  on 
the  deck  above. 

Presently  I  saw  that  one  of  these  wore  a  priest's  robe,  and 
guessing  that  he  must  be  my  companion  with  whom  I  had 
escaped,  I  strove  to  attract  his  notice,  and  at  length  suc- 
ceeded. So  soon  as  he  knew  who  it  was  beneath  him,  the  priest 
lay  down  on  the  deck  as  though  to  rest  himself,  and  we  spoke 
together.  He  told  me,  as  I  had  guessed,  that  we  were 
becalmed  and  that  a  great  sickness  had  taken  hold  of  the 
ship,  already  laying  low  a  third  of  the  crew,  adding  that  it 
was  a  judgment  from  heaven  because  of  their  cruelty  and 
wickedness. 

To  this  I  answered  that  the  judgment  was  working  on  the 
captives  as  well  as  on  the  captors,  and  asked  him  where  was 
Sarceda,  as  they  named  de  Garcia.  Then  I  learned  that  he 
had  been  taken  sick  that  morning,  and  I  rejoiced  at  the 
news,  for  if  I  had  hated  him  before,  it  may  be  judged  how 
deeply  I  hated  him  now.  Presently  the  priest  left  me  and 
returned  with  water  mixed  with  the  juice  of  limes,  that  tasted 
to  me  like  nectar  from  the  gods,  and  some  good  meat  and 
fruit.  These  he  gave  me  through  the  hole  in  the  planks, 
and  I  made  shift  to  seize  them  in  my  manacled  hands  and 
devoured  them.  After  this  he  went  away,  to  my  great  chagrin  ; 
why,  I  did  not  discover  till  the  following  morning. 

That  day  passed  and  the  long  night  passed,  and  when  at 


88  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

length  the  Spaniards  visited  the  hold  once  more,  there  wer 
forty  bodies  to  be  dragged  out  of  it,  and  many  others  wer< 
sick.  After  they  had  gone  I  stood  up,  watching  for  my  friem 
the  priest,  but  he  did  not  come  then,  nor  ever  again. 


CHAPTER   XII 

THOMAS    COMES   TO    SHOKE 

FOE  an  hour  or  more  I  stood  thus  craning  my  neck  upward 
to  seek  for  the  priest.  At  length  when  I  was  about  to  sin) 
back  into  the  hold,  for  I  could  stand  no  longer  in  that  crampe< 
posture,  I  saw  a  woman's  dress  pass  by  the  hole  in  the  deck 
and  knew  it  for  one  that  was  worn  by  a  lady  who  had  escapee 
with  me  in  the  boat. 

'  Seiiora,'  I  whispered,  'for  the  love  of  God  listen  to  me. 
It  is  I,  d'Aila,  who  am  chained  down  here  among  the  slaves. ' 

She  started,  then  as  the  priest  had  done,  she  sat  herseH 
down  upon  the  deck,  and  I  told  her  of  my  dreadful  plight,  no ; 
knowing  that  she  was  acquainted  with  it,  and  of  the  horror,; 
below. 

'  Alas !  seiior,'  she  answered,  '  they  can  be  little  worse  thai 
those  above.  A  dreadful  sickness  is  raging  among  the  crew 
six  are  already  dead  and  many  more  are  raving  in  their  las , 
madness.  I  would  that  the  sea  had  swallowed  us  with  th<  -. 
rest,  for  we  have  been  rescued  from  it  only  to  fall  into  hell. 
Already  my  mother  is  dead  and  my  little  brother  is  dying.' 

'  Where  is  the  priest  ?  '  I  asked. 

'  He  died  this  morning  and  has  just  been  cast  into  the  sea. 
Before  he  died  he  spoke  of  you,  and  prayed  me  to  help  you  i : 
I  could.  But  his  words  were  wild  and  I  thought  that  he 
might  be  distraught.  And  indeed  how  can  I  help  you  ?  ' 

'Perhaps  you  can  find  me  food  and  drink,'  I  answered, 
'  and  for  our  friend,  God  rest  his  soul.  What  of  the  Captain 
Sarceda  ?  Is  he  also  dead  ?  ' 

*  No,  seiior,  he  alone  is  recovering  of  all  whom  the  scourge  j 
has  smitten.  And  now  I  must  go  to  my  brother,  but  first  I 
will  seek  food  for  you.' 

She  went  and  presently  returned  with  meat  and  a  flask  o: 
wine  which  she  had  hidden  beneath  her  dress,  and  I  ate  and 
blessed  her. 

For  two  days  she  fed  me  thus,  bringing  me  food  at  night. 
On  the.  second  night  she  told  me  that  her  brother  was  dead 


THOMAS  COMES   TO  SHORE  89 

and  of  all  the  crew  only  fifteen  men  and  one  officer  re- 
mained untouched  by  the  sickness,  and  that  she  herself  grew 
ill.  Also  she  said  that  the  water  was  almost  finished,  and 
there  was  little  food  left  for  the  slaves.  After  this  she  came 
no  more,  and  I  suppose  that  she  died  also. 

It  was  within  twenty  hours  of  her  last  visit  that  I  left  this 
accursed  ship.  For  a  day  none  had  come  to  feed  or  tend  the 
slaves,  and  indeed  many  needed  no  tending,  for  they  were 
dead.  Some  still  lived  however,  though  so  far  as  I  could 
see  the  most  of  them  were  smitten  with  the  plague.  I  myself 
had  escaped  the  sickness,  perhaps  because  of  the  strength  and 
natural  healthiness  of  my  body,  which  has  always  saved  me 
from  fevers  and  diseases,  fortified  as  it  was  by  the  good  food 
that  I  had  obtained.  But  now  I  knew  that  I  could  not  live 
long,  indeed  chained  in  this  dreadful  charnel-house  I  prayed 
for  death  to  release  me  from  the  horrors  of  such  existence. 
The  day  passed  as  before  in  sweltering  heat,  unbroken  by 
any  air  or  motion,  and  night  came  at  last,  made  hideous  by 
the  barbarous  ravings  of  the  dying.  But  even  there  and 
then  I  slept  and  dreamed  that  I  was  walking  with  my  love 
in  the  vale  of  Waveney. 

Towards  the  morning  I  was  awakened  by  a  sound  of 
clanking  iron,  and  opening  my  eyes,  I  saw  that  men  were  at 
work,  by  the  light  of  lanterns,  knocking  the  fetters  from  the 
dead  and  the  living  together.  As  the  fetters  were  loosed  a 
rope  was  put  round  the  body  of  the  slave,  and  dead  or  quick, 
lie  was  hauled  through  the  hatchway.  Presently  a  heavy 
splash  in  the  water  without  told  the  rest  of  the  tale.  Now  I 
understood  that  all  the  slaves  were  being  thrown  overboard 
because  of  the  want  of  water,  and  in  the  hope  that  it  might 
avail  to  save  from  the  pestilence  those  of  the  Spaniards  who 
still  remained  alive. 

I  watched  them  at  their  work  for  a  while  till  there  were 
but  two  slaves  between  me  and  the  workers,  of  whom  one  was 
living  and  the  other  dead.  Then  I  bethought  me  that  this 
would  be  my  fate  also,  to  be  cast  quick  into  the  sea,  and  took 
counsel  with  myself  as  to  whether  I  should  declare  that  I  was 
whole  from  the  plague  and  pray  them  to  spare  me,  or  whether 
I  should  suffer  myself  to  be  drowned.  The  desire  for  life  was 
strong,  but  perhaps  it  may  serve  to  show  how  great  were  the 
torments  from  which  I  was  suffering,  and  how  broken  was  my 
spirit  by  misfortunes  and  the  horrors  around  me,  when  I  say 
that  I  determined  to  make  no  further  effort  to  live,  but  rather 
to  accept  death  as  a  merciful  release,  And,  indeed,  I  knew 


90  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

that  there  was  little  likelihood  of  such  attempts  being  of  avail, 
for  I  saw  that  the  Spanish  sailors  were  mad  with  fear  and  had 
but  one  desire,  to  be  rid  of  the  slaves  who  consumed  the  water, 
and  as  they  believed,  had  bred  the  pestilence.  So  I  said 
such  prayers  as  came  into  my  head,  and  although  with  a  great 
shivering  of  fear,  for  the  poor  flesh  shrinks  from  its  end  and 
the  unknown  beyond  it,  however  high  may  be  the  spirit,  I 
prepared  myself  to  die. 

Now,  having  dragged  away  my  neighbour  in  misery,  the 
living  savage,  the  men  turned  to  me.  They  were  naked  to  the 
middle,  and  worked  furiously  to  be  done  with  their  hateful  task, 
sweating  with  the  heat,  and  keeping  themselves  from  fainting 
by  draughts  of  spirit. 

'  This  one  is  alive  also  and  does  not  seem  so  sick,'  said  a 
man  as  he  struck  the  fetters  from  me. 

*  Alive  or  dead,  away  with  the  dog !  '  answered  another 
hoarsely,  and  I  saw  that  it  was  the  same  officer  to  whom  I 
had  been  given  as  a  slave.  *  It  is  that  Englishman,  and  he  it 
is  who  brought  us  ill  luck.  Cast  the  Jonah  overboard  and  let 
him  try  his  evil  eye  upon  the  sharks.' 

'  So  be  it,'  answered  the  other  man,  and  finished  striking 
off  my  fetters.  '  Those  who  have  come  to  a  cup  of  water  each 
a  day,  do  not  press  their  guests  to  share  it.  They  show  them 
the  door.  Say  your  prayers,  Englishman,  and  may  they  dc 
you  more  good  than  they  have  done  for  most  on  this  accursed 
ship.  Here,  this  is  the  stuff  to  make  drowning  easy,  and  there 
is  more  of  it  on  board  than  of  water,'  and  he  handed  me  th( 
flask  of  spirit.  I  took  it  and  drank  deep,  and  it  comforted  m<-. 
a  little.  Then  they  put  the  rope  round  me  and  at  a  signal 
those  on  the  deck  above  began  to  haul  till  I  swung  looso 
beneath  the  hatchway.  As  I  passed  that  Spaniard  to  whom 
I  had  been  given  in  slavery,  and  who  but  now  had  counselled 
my  casting  away,  I  saw  his  face  well  hi  the  light  of  tha 
lantern,  and  there  were  signs  on  it  that  a  physician  could  real 
clearly. 

'  Farewell,'  I  said  to  him,  *  we  may  soon  meet  again. 
Fool,  why  do  you  labour  ?  Take  your  rest,  for  the  plague  is 
on  you.  In  six  hours  you  will  be  dead ! ' 

His  jaw  dropped  with  terror  at  my  words,  and  for  a 
moment  he  stood  speechless.  Then  he  uttered  a  fearful  oath 
and  aimed  a  blow  at  me  with  the  hammer  he  held,  which 
would  swiftly  have  put  an  end  to  my  sufferings  had  I  not  at  that 
moment  been  lifted  from  his  reach  by  those  who  pulled  above. 

In  another  second,  I  had  fallen  on  the  deck  as  they  slacked, 


THOMAS  COMES   TO  SHORE  91 

the  rope.  Near  me  stood  two  black  men  whose  office  it  was  to 
cast  us  poor  wretches  into  the  sea,  and  behind  them,  seated  in 
a  chair,  his  face  haggard  from  recent  illness,  sat  de  Garcia 
fanning  himself  with  his  sombrero,  for  the  night  was  very  hot. 

He  recognised  me  at  once  in  the  moonlight,  which  was  bril- 
liant, and  said,  *  What !  are  you  here  and  still  alive,  Cousin  ? 
You  are  tough  indeed ;  I  thought  that  you  must  be  dead  or 
dying.  Indeed  had  it  not  been  for  this  accursed  plague,  I 
would  have  seen  to  it  myself.  Well,  it  has  come  right  at  last, 
and  here  is  the  only  lucky  thing  in  all  this  voyage,  that  I  shall 
have  the  pleasure  of  sending  you  to  the  sharks.  It  consoles 
me  for  much,  friend  Wingfield.  So  you  came  across  the 
seas  to  seek  vengeance  on  me  ?  Well,  I  hope  that  your  stay 
has  been  pleasant.  The  accommodation  was  a  little  poor, 
but  at  least  the  welcome  was  hearty.  And  now  it  is  time 
to  speed  the  parting  guest.  Good  night,  Thomas  W7ingfield  ; 
if  you  should  chance  to  meet  your  mother  presently,  tell  her 
from  me  that  I  was  grieved  to  have  to  kill  her,  for  she  is 
the  one  being  whom  I  have  loved.  I  did  not  come  to  murder 
her  as  you  may  have  thought,  but  she  forced  me  to  it  to  save 
myself,  since  had  I  not  done  so,  I  should  never  have  lived  to 
return  to  Spain.  She  had  too  much  of  my  own  blood  to  suffer 
me  to  escape,  and  it  seems  that  it  runs  strong  in  your  veins 
also,  else  you  would  scarcely  hold  so  fast  by  vengeance.  Well, 
it  has  not  prospered  you  ! '  And  he  dropped  back  into  the 
chair  and  fell  to  fanning  himself  again  with  the  broad  hat. 

Even  then,  as  I  stood  upon  the  eve  of  death,  I  felt  my  blocd 
run  hot  within  me  at  the  sting  of  his  coarse  taunts.  Truly 
de  Garcia's  triumph  was  complete.  I  had  come  to  hunt  him 
down,  and  what  was  the  end  of  it  ?  He  was  about  to  hurl  me 
to  the  sharks.  Still  I  answered  him  with  such  dignity  as  I 
could  command. 

'  You  have  me  at  some  disadvantage,'  I  eaid.  '  Now  if 
there  is  any  manhood  left  in  you,  give  me  a  sword  and  let 
us  settle  our  quarrel  once  and  for  all.  You  are  weak  from 
sickness  I  know,  but  what  am  I  who  have  spent  certain  days 
and  nights  in  this  hell  of  yours.  We  should  be  well  matched, 
de  Garcia.' 

'  Perhaps  so,  Cousin,  but  where  is  the  need  ?  To  be 
frank,  things  have  not  gone  over  well  with  me  when  we  stood 
face  to  face  before,  and  it  is  odd,  but  do  you  know,  I  have 
been  troubled  with  a  foreboding  that  you  would  be  the  end 
of  me.  That  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  I  sought  a  change  of  air 
to  these  warmer  regions.  But  see  the  folly  of  forebodings, 


nd  I 


92  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

my  friend.  I  am  still  alive,  though  I  have  been  ill,  and 
mean  to  go  on  living,  but  you  are — forgive  me  for  mentioning 
it — you  are  already  dead.  Indeed  those  gentlemen,'  and  he 
pointed  to  the  two  black  men  who  were  taking  advantage  01 
our  talk  to  throw  into  the  sea  the  slave  who  followed  me  up 
the  hatchway,  *  are  waiting  to  put  a  stop  to  our  conversation. 
Have  you  any  message  that  I  can  deliver  for  you  ?  If  so,  out 
with  it,  for  time  is  short  and  that  hold  must  be  cleared  by 
daybreak.' 

1 1  have  no  message  to  give  you  from  myself,  though  I  have 
a  message  for  you,  de  Garcia,'  I  answered.  '  But  before  I 
tell  it,  let  me  say  a  word.  You  seem  to  have  w>n,  wicke  d 
murderer  as  you  are,  but  perhaps  the  game  is  not  yet  played. 
Your  fears  may  still  come  true.  I  am  dead,  but  my  vengeance 
may  yet  live  on,  for  I  leave  it  to  the  Hand  in  which  I  should 
have  left  it  at  first.  You  may  live  some  years  longer,  but  do 
you  think  that  you  shall  escape  ?  One  day  you  will  die  as 
surely  as  I  must  die  to-night,  and  what  then,  de  Garcia  ?  ' 

1  A  truce,  I  pray  you,'  he  said  with  a  sneer.  '  Surely  you 
have  not  been  consecrated  priest.  You  had  a  message,  you 
said.  Pray  deliver  it  quickly.  Time  presses,  Cousin  Wing- 
field.  Who  sends  messages  to  an  exile  like  myself  ? ' 

'  Isabella  de  Siguenza,  whom  you  cheated  with  a  false*  mar- 
riage and  abandoned,'  I  said. 

He  started  from  his  chair  and  stood  over  me. 

*  What  of  her  ?  '  he  whispered  fiercely. 

'  Only  this,  the  monks  walled  her  up  alive  with  her  babe.' 

'  Walled  her  up  alive  !  Mother  of  God !  how  do  you  knov 
that  ? ' 

' 1  chanced  to  see  it  done,  that  is  all.  She  prayed  me  to 
tell  you  of  her  end  and  the  child's,  and  that  she  died  hiding 
your  name,  loving  and  forgiving.  This  was  all  her  message, 
but  I  will  add  to  it.  May  she  haunt  you  for  ever,  she  and 
my  mother  ;  may  they  haunt  you  through  life  and  death, 
through  earth  and  hell.' 

He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  for  a  moment,  then 
dropping  them  sank  back  into  the  chair  and  called  to  the  black 
sailors, 

*  Away  with  this  slave.     Why  are  you  so  slow  ?  ' 

The  men  advanced  upon  me,  but  I  was  not  minded  to  be 
handled  by  them  if  I  could  help  it,  and  I  was  minded  to 
cause  de  Garcia  to  share  my  fate.  Suddenly  I  bounded  t,t 
him,  and  gripping  him  round  the  middle,  I  dragged  him  from 
his  chair.  Such  was  the  strength  that  rage  and  despair  gave 


THOMAS  COMES   TO  SHORE  93 

to  me  that  I  succeeded  in  swinging  him  up  to  the  level  of  the 
bulwarks.  But  there  the  matter  ended,  for  at  that  moment  the 
two  black  sailors  sprang  upon  us  both,  and  tore  him  from  my 
grip.  Then  seeing  that  all  was  lost,  for  they  were  about  to 
cut  me  down  with  their  swords,  I  placed  my  hand  upon  the 
bulwark  and  leaped  into  the  sea. 

My  reason  told  me  that  I  should  do  well  to  drown  as 
quickly  as  possible,  and  I  thought  to  myself  that  I  would 
not  try  to  swim,  but  would  sink  at  once.  Yet  love  of  life 
was  too  strong  for  me,  and  so  soon  as  I  touched  the  water, 
I  struck  out  and  began  to  swim  along  the  side  of  the  ship, 
keeping  myself  in  her  shadow,  for  I  feared  lest  de  Garcia 
should  cause  me  to  be  shot  at  with  arrows  and  musket  balls. 
Presently  as  I  went  I  heard  him  say  with  an  oath  : 

'  He  has  gone,  and  for  good  this  time,  but  my  foreboding 
went  near  to  coming  true  after  all.  Bah !  how  the  sight  of 
that  man  frightens  me.' 

Now  I  knew  in  my  heart  that  I  was  doing  a  mad  thing, 
for  though  if  no  shark  took  me,  I  might  float  for  six  or  eight 
hours  in  this  warm  water,  yet  I  must  sink  at  last,  and  what 
would  my  struggle  have  profited  me?  Still  I  swam  on 
slowly,  and  after  the  filth  and. stench  of  the  slave  hold,  the 
touch  of  the  clean  water  and  the  breath  of  the  pure  air  were 
like  food  and  wine  to  me,  and  I  felt  strength  enter  into 
me  as  I  went.  By  this  time  I  was  a  hundred  yards  or  more 
from  the  ship,  and  though  those  on  board  could  scarcely  have 
seen  me,  I  could  still  hear  the  splash  of  the  bodies,  as  the 
slaves  were  flung  from  her,  and  the  drowning  cries  of  such 
among  them  as  still  lived. 

I  lifted  my  head  and  looked  round  the  waste  of  water,  and 
seeing  something  floating  on  it  at  a  distance,  I  swam  towards 
it,  expecting  that  every  moment  would  be  my  last,  because  of 
the  sharks  which  abound  in  these  seas.  Soon  I  was  near  it, 
and  to  my  joy  I  perceived  that  it  was  a  large  barrel,  which 
had  been  thrown  from  the  ship,  and  was  floating  upright  in  the 
water.  I  reached  it,  and  pushing  at  it  from  below,  contrived 
to  tilt  it  so  that  I  caught  its  upper  edge  with  my  hand.  Then 
I  saw  that  it  was  half  full  of  meal  cakes,  and  that  it  had 
been  cast  away  because  the  meal  was  stinking.  It  was  the 
weight  of  these  rotten  cakes  acting  as  ballast,  that  caused  the 
tub  to  float  upright  in  the  water.  Now  I  bethought  me, 
that  if  I  could  get  into  this  barrel  I  should  be  safe  from  the 
sharks  for  a  while,  but  how  to  do  it  I  did  not  know. 


94  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

While  I  wondered,  chancing  to  glance  behind  me,  I  saw  the 
fin  of  a  shark  standing  above  the  water  not  twenty  paces  away, 
and  advancing  rapidly  towards  me.  Then  terror  seized  me 
and  gave  me  strength  and  the  wit  of  despair.  Pulling  down 
the  edge  of  the  barrel  till  the  water  began  to  pour  into  it,  I 
seized  it  on  either  side  with  my  hands,  and  lifting  my  weight 
upon  them,  I  doubled  my  knees.  To  this  hour  I  cannot  tell 
how  I  accomplished  it,  but  the  next  second  I  was  in  the 
cask,  with  no  other  hurt  than  a  scraped  shin.  But  though 
I  had  found  a  boat,  the  boat  itself  was  like  to  sink,  for  what 
with  my  weight  and  that  of  the  rotten  meal,  and  of  the  water 
which  had  poured  over  the  rim,  the  edge  of  the  barrel  was 
now  not  an  inch  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  I  knew  that 
did  another  bucketful  come  aboard,  it  would  no  longer  bear 
me.  At  that  moment  also  I  saw  the  fin  of  the  shark  within 
four  yards,  and  then  felt  the  barrel  shake  as  the  fish  struck 
it  with  his  nose. 

Now  I  began  to  bail  furiously  with  my  hands,  and  as  1 
bailed,  the  edge  of  the  cask  lifted  itself  above  the  water. 
When  it  had  risen  some  two  inches,  the  shark,  enraged  at  m} 
escape,  came  to  the  surface,  and  turning  on  its  side,  bit  at 
the  tub  so  that  I  heard  its  teeth  grate  on  the  wood  and  iror 
bands,  causing  it  to  heel  over  and  to  spin  round,  shipping 
more  water  as  it  heeled.  Now  I  must  bail  afresh,  and  had  the 
fish  renewed  its  onset,  I  should  have  been  lost.  But  not  finding 
wood  and  iron  to  its  taste,  it  went  away  for  a  while,  although 
I  saw  its  fin  from  time  to  time  for  the  space  of  some 
hours.  I  bailed  with  my  hands  till  I  could  lift  the  water  no 
longer,  then  making  shift  to  take  off  my  boot,  I  bailed  witr 
that.  Soon  the  edge  of  the  cask  stood  twelve  inches  above- 
the  water,  and  I  did  not  lighten  it  further,  fearing  lest  r; 
should  overturn.  Now  I  had  time  to  rest  and  to  remember 
that  all  this  was  of  no  avail,  since  I  must  die  at  last  either 
by  the  sea  or  because  of  thirst,  and  I  lamented  that  my 
cowardice  had  only  sufficed  to  prolong  my  sufferings. 

Then  I  prayed  to  God  to  succour  me,  and  never  did  I  pray 
more  heartily  than  in  that  hour,  and  when  I  had  finished 
praying  some  sort  of  peace  and  hope  fell  upon  me.  I  though] 
it  marvellous  that  I  should  thus  have  escaped  thrice  from 
great  perils  within  the  space  of  a  few  days,  first  from  tho 
sinking  carak,  then  from  pestilence  and  starvation  in  the  hold 
of  the  slave-ship,  and  now,  if  only  for  a  while,  from  the  cruel 
jaws  of  the  sharks.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  not  been 
preserved  from  dangers  which  proved  fatal  to  so  many,  only 


THOMAS  COMES  TO  SHORE  95 

that  I  might  perish  miserably  at  last,  and  even  in  my  despair 
I  began  to  hope  when  hope  was  folly ;  though  whether  this 
relief  was  sent  to  me  from  above,  or  whether  it  was  simply 
that  being  so  much  alive  at  the  moment  I  could  not  believe 
that  I  should  soon  be  dead,  is  not  for  me  to  say. 

At  the  least  my  courage  rose  again,  and  I  could  even  find 
heart  to  note  the  beauty  of  the  night.  The  sea  was  smooth  as 
a  pond,  there  was  no  breath  of  wind,  and  now  that  the  moon 
began  to  sink,  thousands  of  stars  of  a  marvellous  brightness, 
such  as  we  do  not  see  in  England,  gemmed  the  heavens 
everywhere.  At  last  these  grew  pale,  and  dawn  began  to 
flush  the  east,  and  after  it  came  the  first  rays  of  sunlight. 
But  now  I  could  not  see  fifty  yards  around  me,  because  of  a 
dense  mist  that  gathered  on  the  face  of  the  quiet  water,  and 
hung  there  for  an  hour  or  more.  When  the  sun  was  well 
up  and  at  length  the  mist  cleared  away,  I  perceived  that  I  had 
drifted  far  from  the  ship,  of  which  I  could  only  see  the  masts 
that  grew  ever  fainter  till  tLey  vanished.  Now  the  surface  of 
the  sea  was  clear  of  fog  except  in  one  direction,  where  it 
hung  in  a  thick  bank  of  vapour,  though  why  it  should  rest 
there  and  nowhere  else,  I  could  not  understand. 

Then  the  sun  grew  hot,  and  my  sufferings  commenced,  for 
except  the  draught  of  spirits  that  had  been  given  me  in  the 
hold  of  the  slave-ship,  I  had  touched  no  drink  for  a  day  and 
a  night.  I  will  not  tell  them  all  in  particular  detail,  it  is 
enough  to  say  that  those  can  scarcely  imagine  them  who  have 
never  stood  for  hour  after  hour  in  a  barrel,  bare-headed  and 
parched  with  thirst,  while  the  fierce  heat  of  a  tropical  sun 
beat  down  on  them  from  above,  and  was  reflected  upward 
from  the  glassy  surface  of  the  water.  In  time,  indeed,  I  grew 
faint  and  dizzy,  and  could  hardly  save  myself  from  falling 
into  the  sea,  and  at  last  I  sank  into  a  sort  of  sleep  or  insensi- 
bility, from  which  I  was  awakened  by  a  sound  of  screaming 
birds  and  of  falling  water.  I  looked  and  saw  to  my  wonder 
and  delight,  that  what  I  had  taken  to  be  a  bank  of  mist 
was  really  low-lying  land,  and  that  I  was  drifting  rapidly 
with  the  tide  towards  the  bar  of  a  large  river.  The  sound  of 
birds  came  from  great  flocks  of  sea-gulls  that  were  preying 
on  the  shoals  of  fish,  which  fed  at  the  meeting  of  the 
fresh  and  salt  water.  Presently,  as  I  watched,  a  gull  seized 
a  fish  that  could  not  have  weighed  less  than  three  pounds, 
and  strove  to  lift  it  from  the  sea.  Failing  in  this,  it  beat 
the  fish  on  the  head  with  its  beak  till  it  died,  and  had  begun 
to  devour  it,  when  I  drifted  down  upon  the  spot  and  made 


96  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

haste  to  seize  the  fish.  In  another  moment,  dreadful  as  it 
may  seem,  I  was  devouring  the  food  raw,  and  never  have  I 
eaten  with  better  appetite,  or  found  more  refreshment  in  a 

TT1PH 1 

When  I  had  swaUowed  all  that  I  was  able,  without  drink- 
ing water,  I  put  the  rest  of  the  fish  into  the  pocket  of  my 
coat,  and  turned  my  thoughts  to  the  breakers  on  the  bar. 
Soon  it  was  evident  to  me  that  I  could  not  pass  them  stand- 
ing in  my  barrel,  so  I  hastened  to  upset  myself  into  the  water 
and  to  climb  astride  of  it.  Presently  we  were  in  the  surf,  and 
I  had  much  ado  to  cling  on,  but  the  tide  bore  me  forward 
bravely,  and  in  half  an  hour  more  the  breakers  were  past,  and 
I  was  in  the  mouth  of  the  great  river.  Now  fortune  favoured 
me  still  further,  for  I  found  a  piece  of  wood  floating  on  the 
stream  which  served  me  for  a  paddle,  and  by  its  help  I  was 
enabled  to  steer  my  craft  towards  the  shore,  that  as  I  went  I  per- 
ceived to  be  clothed  with  thick  reeds,  in  which  tall  and  lovely 
trees  grew  in  groups,  bearing  clusters  of  large  nuts  in  their 
crowns.  Hither  to  this  shore  I  came  without  further  acci- 
dent, having  spent  some  ten  hours  in  my  tub,  though  it  was 
but  a  chance  that  I  did  so,  because  of  the  horrible  reptiles 
called  crocodiles,  or,  by  some,  alligators,  with  which  this  river 
swarmed.  But  of  them  I  knew  nothing  as  yet. 

I  reached  land  but  just  in  time,  for  before  I  was  ashore  the 
tide  turned,  and  tide  and  current  began  to  carry  me  out  to  sea 
again,  whence  assuredly  I  had  never  come  back.  Indeed,  for 
the  last  ten  minutes,  it  took  all  the  strength  that  I  had  to 
force  the  barrel  along  towards  the  bank.  At  length,  however, 
I  perceived  that  it  floated  in  not  more  than  four  feet  of  water, 
and  sliding  from  it,  I  waded  to  the  bank  and  cast  myself  at 
length  there  to  rest  and  thank  God  who  thus  far  had  preserved 
me  miraculously.  But  my  thirst,  which  now  returned  upon 
me  more  fiercely  than  ever,  would  not  suffer  me  to  lie  thus  for 
long,  so  I  staggered  to  my  feet  and  walked  along  the  bank  of 
the  river  till  I  came  to  a  pool  of  rain  water,  which  on  the  tast- 
ing, proved  to  be  sweet  and  good.  Then  I  drank,  weeping 
for  joy  at  the  taste  of  the  water,  drank  till  I  could  drink  no 
more,  and  let  those  who  have  stood  in  such  a  plight  remember 
what  water  was  to  them,  for  110  words  of  mine  can  tell  it. 
After  I  had  drunk  and  washed  the  brine  from  my  face  and 
body,  I  drew  out  the  remainder  of  my  fish  and  ate  it  thank- 
fully, and  thus  refreshed,  cast  myself  down  to  sleep  in  the 
shade  of  a  bush  bearing  white  flowers,  for  I  was  utterly  out- 
worn. 


THOMAS  COMES   TO   SHORE  97 

When  I  opened  my  eyes  again  it  was  night,  and  doubtless  I 
should  have  slept  on  through  many  hours  more  had  it  not  been 
for  a  dreadful  itch  and  pain  that  took  me  in  every  part,  till  at 
length  I  sprang  up  and  cursed  in  my  agony.  At  first  I  was 
at  a  loss  to  know  what  occasioned  this  torment,  till  I  per- 
ceived that  the  air  was  alive  with  gnat-like  insects  which  made 
a  singing  noise,  and  then  settling  on  my  flesh,  sucked  blood 
and  spat  poison  into  the  wound  at  one  and  the  same  time. 
These  dreadful  insects  the  Spaniards  name  mosquitoes.  Nor 
were  they  the  only  flies,  foi"  hundreds  of  other  creatures,  no 
bi.u'L'er  than  a  pin's  head,  had  fastened  on  to  me  like  bull-dogs 
tn  a  baited  bear,  hnring  their  heads  into  the  flesh,  where  in  the 
end  tiny  cause  festers.  They  are  named  garrapatas  by  the 
Spanish,  and  I  take  them  to  be  the  young  of  the  tic.  Others 
tin-re  were,  also,  too  numerous  to  mention,  and  of  every  shape 
and  size,  though  they  had  this  in  common,  all  bit  and  all  were 
vi  nomous.  Before  the  morning  these  plagues  had  driven  me 
almost  to  madness,  for  in  no  way  could  I  obtain  relief  from 
them.  Towards  dawn  I  went  and  lay  in  the  water,  thinking 
to  lessen  my  sufferings,  but  before  I  had  been  there  ten 
minutes  I  saw  a  huge  crocodile  rise  up  from  the  mud  beside 
me.  I  sprang  away  to  the  bank  horribly  afraid,  for  never 
before  had  I  beheld  so  monstrous  and  evil- looking  a  brute,  to 
fall  again  into  the  clutches  of  the  creatures,  winged  and 
crawling,  that  were  waiting  for  me  there  by  myriads. 

But  enough  of  these  damnable  insects  ! 


CHAPTER   XIII 

THE    STONE    OF    SACRIFICE 

AT  length  the  morning  broke  and  found  me  in  a  sorry  plight, 
for  my  face  was  swollen  to  the  size  of  a  pumpkin  by  the 
venom  of  the  mosquitoes,  and  the  rest  of  my  body  was  in 
little  better  case.  Moreover  I  could  not  keep  myself  still 
because  of  the  itching,  but  must  run  and  jump  like  a  mad- 
man. And  where  was  I  to  run  to  through  this  huge  swamp, 
in  which  I  could  see  no  shelter  or  sign  of  man  ?  I  could  not 
guess,  so  since  I  must  keep  moving  I  followed  the  bank  of  the 
river,  as  I  walked  disturbing  many  crocodiles  and  loathsome 
snakes.  Now  I  knew  that  I  could  not  live  long  in  such  suffering, 

H 


98  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

and  determined  to  struggle  forward  till  I  fell  down  insensible 
and  death  put  an  end  to  my  torments. 

For  an  hour  or  more  I  went  on  thus  till  I  came  to  a  place 
that  was  clear  of  bush  and  reeds.  Across  this  I  skipped  and 
danced,  striking  with  my  swollen  hands  at  the  gnats  which 
buzzed  about  my  head.  Now  the  end  was  not  far  off,  for  I 
was  exhausted  and  near  to  falling,  when  suddenly  I  came 
upon  a  party  of  men,  brown  in  colour  and  clothed  with  white 
garments,  who  had  been  fishing  in  the  river.  By  them  on 
the  water  were  several  canoes  in  which  were  loads  of  mer- 
chandise, and  they  were  now  engaged  in  eating.  So  soon  as 
these  men  caught  sight  of  me  they  uttered  exclamations  in  an 
unknown  tongue  and  seizing  weapons  that  lay  by  them,  bows 
and  arrows  and  wooden  clubs  set  on  either  side  with  spikes  of 
flinty  glass,  they  made  towards  me  as  though  to  kill  me.  Now 
I  lifted  up  my  hands  praying  for  mercy,  and  seeing  that  I  was 
unarmed  and  helpless  the  men  laid  down  their  arms  and 
addressed  me.  I  shook  my  head  to  show  that  I  could  not 
understand,  and  pointed  first  to  the  sea  and  then  to  mj 
swollen  features.  They  nodded,  and  going  to  one  of  the  i 
canoes  a  man  brought  from  it  a  paste  of  a  brown  colour  and 
aromatic  smell.  Then  by  signs  he  directed  me  to  remove  • 
such  garments  as  remained  on  me,  the  fashion  of  whict  j 
seemed  to  puzzle  them  greatly.  This  being  done,  they  pro- 
ceeded to  anoint  my  body  with  the  paste,  the  touch  of  which 
gave  me  a  most  blessed  relief  from  my  intolerable  itching  j 
and  burning,  and  moreover  rendered  my  flesh  distasteful  to 
the  insects,  for  after  that  they  plagued  me  little. 

When  I  was  anointed  they  offered  me  food,  fried  fish  am  1 1 
cakes  of  meal,  together  with  a  most  delicious  hot  drink  covered 
with  a  brown  and  foaming  froth  that  I  learned  to  know  after-] 
wards  as  chocolate.  When  I  had  finished  eating,  having 
talked  a  while  together  in  low  tones,  they  motioned  me  to] 
enter  one  of  the  canoes,  giving  me  mats  to  lie  on.  I  obeyed,! 
and  three  other  men  came  with  me,  for  the  canoe  was  large  .j 
One  of  these,  a  very  grave  man  with  a  gentle  face  and  manner] 
whom  I  took  to  be  the  chief  of  the  party,  sat  down  opposite 
to  me,  the  other  two  placing  themselves  in  the  bow  and  stem 
of  the  boat  which  they  drove  along  by  means  of  paddlen.! 
Then  we  started,  followed  by  three  other  canoes,  and  before^ 
we  had  gone  a  mile  utter  weariness  overpowered  me  and  I  fe.ll 
asleep. 

I  awoke  much  refreshed,  having  slept  many  hours,  for  nowj 
the  sun  was  setting,  and  was  astonished  to  find  the  grave.- 


THE  STONE   OF  SACRIFICE  99 

looking  man  my  companion  in  the  canoe,  keeping  watch  over 
my  sleep  and  warding  the  gnats  from  me  with  a  leafy  branch. 
His  kindness  seemed  to  show  that  I  was  in  no  danger  of  ill- 
treatment,  and  my  fears  on  that  point  being  set  at  rest,  I  began 
to  wonder  as  to  what  strange  land  I  had  come  and  who  its 
people  might  be.  Soon,  however,  I  gave  over,  having  nothing 
to  build  on,  and  observed  the  scenery  instead.  Now  we  were 
paddling  up  a  smaller  river  than  the  one  on  the  banks  of 
which  1  had  been  cast  away,  and  were  no  longer  in  the  midst 
of  marshes.  On  either  side  of  us  was  open  land,  or  rather 
land  that  would  have  been  open  had  it  not  been  for  the  great 
trees,  larger  than  the  largest  oak,  which  grew  upon  it,  some 
of  them  of  surpassing  beauty.  Up  these  trees  climbed 
creepers  that  hung  like  ropes  even  from  the  topmost  boughs, 
and  among  them  were  many  strange  and  gorgeous  flowering 
plants  that  seemed  to  cling  to  the  bark  as  moss  clings  to  a 
wall.  In  their  branches  also  sat  harsh-voiced  birds  of  bril- 
liant colours,  and  apes  that  barked  and  chattered  at  us  as  we 
went. 

Just  as  the  sun  set  overall  this  strange  new  scene  the 
can<><  s  t-anic  to  a  landing  place  built  of  timber,  and  we  dis- 
iiuUiiked.  Now  it  grew  dark  suddenly,  and  all  I  could  di  - 
cover  was  that  I  was  being  led  along  a  good  road.  Presently 
we  reached  a  gate,  which,  from  the  barking  of  dogs  and  the 
numbers  of  people  who  thronged  about  it,  I  judged  to  be  the 
entrance  to  a  town,  and  passing  it,  we  advanced  down  a  long 
street  with  houses  on  either  side.  At  the  doorway  of  the  last 
house  my  companion  halted,  and  taking  me  by  the  hand, 
led  me  into  a  long  low  room  lit  with  lamps  of  earthen- 
ware. Here  some  women  came  forward  and  kissed  him, 
while  others  whom  I  took*  to  be  servants,  saluted  him  by 
touching  the  floor  with  one  hand.  Soon,  however,  all  eyes 
were  turned  on  me  and  many  eager  questions  were  asked  of 
the  chief,  of  which  I  could  only  guess  the  purport. 

When  all  had  gazed  their  fill  supper  was  served,  a  rich 
meal  of  many  strange  meats,  and  of  this  I  was  invited  to 
.partake,  which  I  did,  seated  on  a  mat  and  eating  of  the  dishes 
that  were  placed  upon  the  ground  by  the  women.  Among 
these  I  noticed  one  girl  who  far  surpassed  all  the  others  in 
grace,  though  none  were  unpleasing  to  the  eye.  She  was 
dark,  indeed,  but  her  features  were  regular  and  her  eyes  fine. 
Her  figure  was  tall  and  straight,  and  the  sweetness  of  her  face 
added  to  the  charm  of  her  beauty.  I  mention  this  girl  here 
for  two  reasons,  first  because  she  saved  me  once  from  sacrifice 

ii  2 


ioo  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

and  once  from  torture,  and  secondly  because  she  was  none 
other  than  that  woman  who  afterwards  became  known  as 
Marina,  the  mistress  of  Cortes,  without  whose  aid  he  had 
never  conquered  Mexico.  But  at  this  time  she  did  not  guess 
that  it  was  her  destiny  to  bring  her  country  of  Anahuac 
beneath  the  cruel  yoke  of  the  Spaniard. 

From  the  moment  of  my  entry  I  saw  that  Marina,  as  I 
will  call  her,  for  her  Indian  name  is  too  long  to  be  written, 
took  pity  on  my  forlorn  state,  and  did  what  lay  in  her  power 
to  protect  me  from  vulgar  curiosity  and  to  minister  to  my 
wants.  It  was  she  who  brought  me  water  to  wash  in,  and  a 
clean  robe  of  linen  to  replace  my  foul  and  tattered  garments, 
and  a  cloak  fashioned  of  bright  feathers  for  my  shoulders. 

When  supper  was  done  a  mat  was  given  me  to  sleep  on  in 
a  little  room  apart,  and  here  I  lay  down,  thinking  that  though 
I  might  be  lost  for  ever  to  my  own  world,  at  least  I  had  faller 
among  a  people  who  were  gentle  and  kindly,  and  moreover 
as  I  saw  from  many  tokens,  no  savages.  One  thing,  however 
disturbed  me  ;  I  discovered  that  though  I  was  well  treated,  alsc< 
I  was  a  prisoner,  for  a  man  armed  with  a  copper  spear  slep 
across  the  doorway  of  my  little  room.  Before  I  lay  down  "' 
looked  through  the  wooden  bars  which  served  as  a  protection  to 
the  window  place,  and  saw  that  the  house  stood  upon  the  bordei  • 
of  a  large  open  space,  in  the  midst  of  which  a  great  pyramk . 
towered  a  hundred  feet  or  more  into  the  air.  On  the  top  o :' 
this  pyramid  was  a  building  of  stone  that  I  took  to  be  i, 
temple,  and  rightly,  in  front  of  which  a  fire  burned.  Mar  • 
veiling  what  the  purpose  of  this  great  work  might  be,  and  in 
honour  of  what  faith  it  was  erected,  I  went  to  sleep. 

On  the  morrow  I  was  to  learn. 

Here  it  may  be  convenient  for  me  to  state,  what  I  did  not 
discover  till  afterwards,  that  I  was  in  the  city  of  Tobasco,  tha 
capital  of  one  of  the  southern  provinces  of  Anahuac,  which  is 
situated  at  a  distance  of  some  hundreds  of  miles  from  the 
central  city  of  Tenoctitlan,  or  Mexico.  The  river  where  I 
had  been  cast  away  was  the  Rio  de  Tobasco,  where  Cortes 
landed  in  the  following  year,  and  my  host,  or  rather  my  captor, 
was  the  cacique  or  chief  of  Tobasco,  the  same  man  who  sub- 
sequently presented  Marina  to  Cortes.  Thus  it  came  about 
that,  with  the  exception  of  a  certain  Aguilar,  who  with  some 
companions  was  wrecked  on  the  coast  of  Yucatan  six  years 
before,  I  was  the  first  white  man  who  ever  dwelt  among  the 
Indians.  This  Aguilar  was  rescued  by  Cortes,  though  his 
companions  were  all  sacrificed  to  Huitzel,  the  horrible  war- 


THE  STONE   OF  SACRIFICE  101 

god  of  the  country.  But  the  name  of  the  Spaniards  was 
already  known  to  the  Indians,  who  looked  on  them  with 
superstitious  fear,  for  in  the  year  previous  to  my  being  cast 
away,  the  hidalgo  Hernandez  de  Cordova  had  visited  the 
coast  of  Yucatan  and  fought  several  battles  with  the  natives, 
and  earlier  in  the  same  year  of  my  arrival,  Juan  de  Grigalva 
had  come  to  this  very  river  of  Tobasco.  Thus  it  came  about 
that  I  was  set  down  as  one  of  this  strange  new  nation  of 
Teules,  as  the  Indians  named  the  Spaniards,  and  therefore 
as  an  enemy  for  whose  blood  the  gods  were  thirsting. 

I  awoke  at  dawn  much  refreshed  with  sleep,  and  having 
washed  and  clothed  myself  in  the  linen  robes  that  were  pro- 
vided for  me,  I  came  into  the  large  room,  where  food  was 
given  me.  Scarcely  had  I  finished  my  meal  when  my  captor, 
the  cacique,  entered,  accompanied  by  two  men  whose  ap- 
pearance struck  terror  to  my  heart.  In  countenance  they  were 
fierce  and  horrible  ;  they  wore  black  robes  embroidered  with 
mystic  characters  in  red,  and  their  long  and  tangled  hair  was 
matted  together  with  some  strange  substance.  These  men, 
whom  all  present,  including  the  chief  or  cacique,  seemed  to 
look  on  with  the  utmost  reverence,  glared  at  me  with  a  fierce 
glee  that  made  my  blood  run  cold.  One  of  them,  indeed,  tore 
open  my  white  robe  and  placed  his  filthy  hand  upon  my  heart, 
which  beat  quickly  enough,  counting  its  throbs  aloud  while 
the  other  nodded  at  his  words.  Afterwards  I  learned  that  he 
was  saying  that  I  was  very  strong. 

Glancing  round  to  find  the  interpretation  of  this  act  upon 
the  faces  of  those  about  me,  my  eyes  caught  those  of  the  girl 
Marina,  and  there  was  that  in  them  which  left  me  in  little 
doubt.  Horror  and  pity  were  written  there,  and  I  knew  that 
some  dreadful  death  overshadowed  me.  Before  I  could  do 
anything,  before  I  could  even  think,  I  was  seized  by  the  priests, 
or  pabas  as  the  Indians  name  them,  and  dragged  from  the 
room,  all  the  household  following  us  except  Marina  and  the 
cacique.  Now  I  found  myself  in  a  great  square  or  market 
place  bordered  by  many  fine  houses  of  stone  and  lime,  and 
some  of  mud,  which  was  filling  rapidly  with  a  vast  number 
of  people,  men  women  and  children,  who  all  stared  at  me 
as  I  went  towards  the  pyramid  on  the  top  of  which  the  fire 
burned.  At  the  foot  of  this  pyramid  I  was  led  into  a  little 
chamber  hollowed  in  its  thickness,  and  here  my  dress  was 
torn  from  me  by  more  priests,  leaving  me  naked  except  for 
a  cloth  about  my  loins  and  a  chaplet  of  bright  flowers  which 


io2  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

was  set  upon  my  head.  In  this  chamber  were  three  other 
men,  Indians,  who  from  the  horror  on  their  faces  I  judged 
to  be  also  doomed  to  death. 

Presently  a  drum  began  to  beat  high  above  us,  and  we 
were  taken  from  the  chamber  and  placed  in  a  procession  of 
many  priests,  I  being  the  first  among  the  victims.  Then 
the  priests  set  up  a  chant  and  we  began  the  ascent  of  the 
pyramid,  following  a  road  that  wound  round  and  round  its 
bulk  till  it  ended  on  a  platform  at  its  summit,  which  may 
have  measured  forty  paces  in  the  square.  Hence  the  view  of 
the  surrounding  country  was  very  fine,  but  in  that  hour  I 
scarcely  noticed  it,  having  no  care  for  prospects,  however 
pleasing.  On  the  further  side  of  the  platform  were  two 
wooden  towers  fifty  feet  or  so  in  height.  These  were  the 
temples  of  the  gods,  Huitzel  God  of  War  and  Quetzal  God  of 
the  Air,  whose  hideous  effigies  carved  in  stone  grinned  at  us 
through  the  open  doorways.  In  the  chambers  of  these  temples 
stood  small  altars,  and  on  the  altars  were  large  dishes  of  gold, 
containing  the  hearts  of  those  who  had  been  sacrificed  on  the 
yesterday.  These  chambers,  moreover,  were  encrusted  with 
every  sort  of  filth.  In  front  of  the  temples  stood  the  altar 
whereon  the  fire  burned  eternally,  and  before  it  were  a  hog- 
backed  block  of  black  marble  of  the  size  of  an  inn  drinking 
table,  and  a  great  carven  stone  shaped  like  a  wheel,  measuring 
some  ten  feet  across  with  a  copper  ring  in  its  centre. 

All  these  things  I  remembered  afterwards,  though  at  the 
time  I  scarcely  seemed  to  see  them,  for  hardly  were  we  arrived 
on  the  platform  when  I  was  seized  and  dragged  to  the  wheel- 
shaped  stone.  Here  a  hide  girdle  was  put  round  my  waisi 
and  secured  to  the  ring  by  a  rope  long  enough  to  enable  me 
to  run  to  the  edge  of  the  stone  and  no  further.  Then  a  flint- 
pointed  spear  was  given  to  me  and  spears  were  given  also  to 
the  two  captives  who  accompanied  me,  and  it  was  made  clear 
to  me  by  signs  that  I  must  fight  with  them,  it  being  their  pan, 
to  leap  upon  the  stone  and  mine  to  defend  it.  Now  I  thought, 
that  if  I  could  kill  these  two  poor  creatures,  perhaps  I  my 
self  should  be  allowed  to  go  free,  and  so  to  save  my  life  1 
prepared  to  take  theirs  if  I  could.  Presently  the  head  pries': 
gave  a  signal  commanding  the  two  men  to  attack  me,  bu; 
they  were  so  lost  in  fear  that  they  did  not  even  stir.  Then 
the  priests  began  to  flog  them  with  leather  girdles  till  a: 
length  crying  out  with  pain,  they  ran  at  me.  One  reached 
the  stone  and  leapt  upon  it  a  little  before  the  other,  and  I 
struck  the  spear  through  his  arm.  Instantly  he  dropped  hi; 3 


THE  STONE   OF  SACRIFICE  103 

weapon  and  fled,  and  the  other  man  fled  also,  for  there  was  no 
fight  in  them,  nor  would  any  flogging  bring  them  to  face  me 
again. 

Seeing  that  they  could  not  make  them  brave,  the  priests 
determined  to  have  done  with  them.  Amidst  a  great  noise  of 
music  and  chanting,  he  whom  I  had  smitten  was  seized  and 
dragged  to  the  hog-backed  block  of  marble,  which  in  truth 
was  a  stone  of  sacrifice.  On  this  he  was  cast  down,  breast 
upwards,  and  held  so  by  five  priests,  two  gripping  his  hands, 
two  his  legs,  and  one  his  head.  Then,  having  donned  a 
scarlet  cloak,  the  head  priest,  that  same  who  had  felt  my  heart, 
uttered  some  kind  of  prayer,  and,  raising  a  curved  knife  of  the 
flint-like  glass  or  itztli,  struck  open  the  poor  wretch's  breast 
at  a  single  blow,  and  made  the  ancient  offering  to  the  sun. 

As  he  did  this  all  the  multitude  in  the  place  below,  in  full 
view  of  whom  this  bloody  game  was  played,  prostrated  them- 
selves, remaining  on  their  knees  till  the  offering  had  been 
thrown  into  the  golden  censer  before  the  statue  of  the  god 
Huitzel.  Thereon  the  horrible  priests,  casting  themselves  on 
the  body,  carried  it  with  shouts  to  the  edge  of  the  pyramid 
or  teocalli,  and  rolled  it  down  the  steep  sides.  At  the  foot 
of  the  slope  it  was  lifted  and  borne  away  by  certain  men  who 
were  waiting,  for  what  purpose  I  did  not  know  at  that  time. 

Scarcely  was  the  first  victim  dead  when  the  second  was 
seized  and  treated  in  a  like  fashion,  the  multitude  prostrating 
themselves  as  before.  And  then  last  of  all  came  my  turn.  I 
felt  myself  seized  and  my  senses  swam,  nor  did  I  recover  them 
till  I  found  myself  lying  on  the  accursed  stone,  the  priests 
dragging  at  my  limbs  and  head,  my  breast  strained  upwards 
till  the  skin  was  stretched  tight  as  that  of  a  drum,  while  over 
me  stood  the  human  devil  in  his  red  mantle,  the  glass  knife  in 
his  hand.  Never  shall  I  forget  his  wicked  face  maddened 
with  the  lust  for  blood,  or  the  glare  in  his  eyes  as  he  tossed 
back  his  matted  locks.  But  he  did  not  strike  at  once,  he 
gloated  over  me,  pricking  me  with  the  point  of  the  knife.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  I  lay  there  for  years  while  the  paba  aimed 
and  pointed  with  the  knife,  but  at  last  through  a  mist  that 
gathered  before  my  eyes,  I  saw  it  flash  upward.  Then  when 
I  thought  that  my  hour  had  come,  a  hand  caught  his  arm  in 
mid-air  and  held  it  and  I  heard  a  voice  whispering. 

What  was  said  did  not  please  the  priest,  for  suddenly  he 
howled  aloud  and  made  a  dash  towards  me  to  kill  me,  but 
again  his  arm  was  caught  before  the  knife  fell.  Then  he 
withdrew  into  the  temple  of  the  god  Quetzal,  and  for  a  long: 


104  MONTEZUMA*S  DAUGHTER 

while  I  lay  upon  the  stone  suffering  the  agonies  of  a  hundre 
deaths,  for  I  believed  that  it  was  determined  to  torture  me  befoi 
I  died,  and  that  my  slaughter  had  been  stayed  for  this  purpos< 

There  I  lay  upon  the  stone,  the  fierce  sunlight  beating  o 
my  breast,  while  from  below  came  the  faint  murmur  of  th 
thousands  of  the  wondering  people.     All  my  life  seemed  t 
pass  before  me  as   I  was  stretched  upon  that  awful  bed, 
hundred  little  things  which  I  had  forgotten  came  back  to  m( 
and  with  them  memories  of  childhood,  of  my  oath  to  m 
father,  of  Lily's  farewell  kiss  and  words,  of  de  Garcia's  fac 
as  I  was  hurled  into  the   sea,  of   the  death  of  Isabella  d  >, 
Siguenza,  and  lastly  a  vague  wonder  as  to  why  all  priest 
were  so  cruel ! 

At  length  I  heard  footsteps  and  shut  my  eyes,  for  I  coul  I 
bear  the  sight  of  that  dreadful  knife  no  longer.  But  behold  ! 
no  knife  fell.  Suddenly  my  hands  were  loosed  and  I  wa^ 
lifted  to  my  feet,  on  which  I  never  hoped  to  stand  agair . 
Then  I  was  borne  to  the  edge  of  the  teocalli,  for  I  could  nc  t 
walk,  and  here  my  would-be  murderer,  the  priest,  having  first 
shouted  some  words  to  the  spectators  below,  that  caused  ther  i 
to  murmur  like  a  forest  when  the  wind  stirs  it,  clasped  me  i]  i 
his  blood-stained  arms  and  kissed  me  on  the  forehead.  Now 
it  was  for  the  first  time  that  I  noticed  my  captor,  the' cacique, 
standing  at  my  side,  grave,  courteous,  and  smiling.  As  h  3 
had  smiled  when  he  handed  me  to  the  pabas,  so  he  smiled 
when  he  took  me  back  from  them.  Then  having  been 
cleansed  and  clothed,  I  was  led  into  the  sanctuary  of  the  god 
Quetzal  and  stood  face  to  face  with  the  hideous  image  there, 
staring  at  the  golden  censer  that  was  to  have  received  my 
heart  while  the  priests  uttered  prayers.  Thence  I  wa? 
supported  down  the  winding  road  of  the  pyramid  till  I  came 
to  its  foot,  where  my  captor  the  cacique  took  me  by  the  hand 
and  led  me  through  the  people  who,  it  seemed,  now  regarded 
me  with  some  strange  veneration.  The  first  person  that 
I  saw  when  we  reached  the  house  was  Marina,  who  looked 
at  me  and  murmured  some  soft  words  that  I  could  not  under- 
stand. Then  I  was  suffered  to  go  to  my  chamber,  and  there 
I  passed  the  rest  of  the  day  prostrated  by  all  that  I  had  under- 
gone. Truly  I  had  come  to  a  land  of  devils  ! 

And  now  I  will  tell  how  it  was  that  I  came  to  be  saved 
from  the  knife.  Marina  having  taken  some  liking  to  me,  pitied 
my  sad  fate,  and  being  very  quick-witted,  she  found  a  way 
to  rescue  me.  For  when  I  had  been  led  off  to  sacrifice,  sho 
spoke  to  the  cacique,  her  lord,  bringing  it  to  his  mind  that, 


THE  STONE  OF  SACRIFICE  105 

by  common  report  Montezuma,  the  Emperor  of  Anahuac,  was 
disturbed  as  to  the  Teules  or  Spaniards,  and  desired  much  to 
see  one.  Now,  she  said,  I  was  evidently  a  Teule,  and  Monte- 
zuma would  be  angered,  indeed,  if  I  were  sacrificed  in  a  far- 
off  town,  instead  of  being  sent  to  him  to  sacrifice  if  he  saw 
fit.  To  this  the  cacique  answered  that  the  words  were  wise, 
but  that  she  should  have  spoken  them  before,  for  now  the 
priests  had  got  hold  of  me,  and  it  was  hopeless  to  save  me 
from  their  grip. 

'  Nay,'  answered  Marina, '  there  is  this  to  be  said.  Quetzal, 
the  god  to  whom  this  Teule  is  to  be  offered,  was  a  white  man,i 
and  it  may  well  happen  that  this  man  is  one  of  his  children^ 
Will  it  please  the  god  that  his  child  should  be  offered  to  him  ? 
At  the  least,  if  the  god  is  not  angered,  Montezuma  will  cer- 
tainly be  wroth,  and  wreak  a  vengeance  on  you  and  on  the 
priests.' 

Now  when  the  cacique  heard  this  he  saw  that  Marina 
spoke  truth,  and  hurrying  up  the  teocalli,  he  caught  the  knife 
as  it  was  in  the  act  of  falling  upon  me.  At  first  the  head 
priest  was  angered  and  called  out  that  this  was  sacrilege, 
but  when  the  cacique  had  told  him  his  mind,  he  understood 
that  he  would  do  wisely  not  to  run  a  risk  of  the  wrath  of 
Montezuma.  So  I  was  loosed  and  led  into  the  sanctuary,  and 
when  I  came  out  the  paba  announced  to  the  people  that  the 
god  had  declared  me  to  be  one  of  his  children,  and  it  was  for 
this  reason  that  then  and  thereafter  they  treated  me  with 
reverence. 


1  Quetzal,  or  more  properly  Quetzalcoatl,  was  the  divinity  who  is 
fabled  to  have  taught  the  natives  of  Anahuac  all  the  useful  arts,  in- 
cluding those  of  government  and  policy.  He  was  white-skinned  and 
dark-haired.  Finally  he  sailed  from  the  shores  of  Anahuac  for  the 
fabulous  country  of  Tlapallan  in  a  bark  of  serpents'  skins.  But  before 
he  sailed  he  promised  that  he  would  return  again  with  a  numerous 
progeny.  This  promise  was  remembered  by  the  Aztecs,  and  it  was 
largely  on  account  of  it  that  the  Spaniards  were  enabled  to  conquer  the 
country,  for  they  were  supposed  to  be  his  descendants.  Perhaps  Quet- 
zalcoatl was  a  Norseman !  Vide  Sagas  of  Eric  the  Bed  and  of  Thorfinn 
Karlsefne. — AUTHOR. 


io6  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    SAVING    OF    GUATEMOC 

Now  after  this  dreadful  day  I  was  kindly  dealt  with  by  the 
people  of  Tobasco,  who  gave  me  the  name  of  Teule  or 
{Spaniard,  and  no  longer  sought  to  put  me  to  sacrifice.  Far 
from  it  indeed,  I  was  well  clothed  and  fed,  and  suffered  to 
wander  where  I  would,  though  always  under  the  care  of 
guards  who,  had  I  escaped,  would  have  paid  for  it  with  their 
lives.  I  learned  that  on  the  morrow  of  my  rescue  from  the 
priests,  messengers  were  despatched  to  Montezuma,  the  great 
king,  acquainting  him  with  the  history  of  my  capture,  and 
seeking  to  know  his  pleasure  concerning  me.  But  the  way  to 
Tenoctitlan  was  far,  and  many  weeks  passed  .before  the  mes- 
sengers returned  again.  Meanwhile  I  filled  the  days  in  learn- 
ing the  Maya  language,  and  also  something  of  that  of  the 
Aztecs,  which  I  practised  with  Marina  and  others.  For  Marina 
was  not  a  Tobascan,  having  been  born  at  Painalla,  on  the 
south-eastern  borders  of  the  empire.  But  her  mother  sold  her 
to  merchants  in  order  that  Marina's  inheritance  might  come 
to  another  child  of  hers  by  a  second  marriage,  and  thus  in  the 
end  the  girl  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  cacique  of  Tobasco. 

Also  I  learned  something  of  the  history  and  customs,  anc 
.of  the  picture  writing  of  the  land,  and  how  to  read  it,  anc 
moreover  I  obtained  great  repute  among  the  Tobascans  by  ni} 
skill  in  medicine,  so  that  in  time  they  grew  to  believe  that  ]. 
was  indeed  a  child  of  Quetzal,  the  good  god.  And  the  more  ~. 
studied  this  people  the  less  I  could  understand  of  them.  In 
most  ways  they  were  equal  to  any  nation  of  our  own  world  of 
which  I  had  knowledge.  None  are  more  skilled  in  the  arts, 
few  are  better  architects  or  boast  purer  laws.  Moreover,  they 
were  brave  and  had  patience.  But  their  faith  was  the  canker 
at  the  root  of  the  tree.  In  precept  it  was  noble  and  had  much 
in  common  with  our  own,  such  as  the  rite  of  baptism,  but  I 
have  told  what  it  was  in  practice.  And  yet,  when  all  is  said, 
is  it  more  cruel  to  offer  up  victims  to  the  gods  than  to  tor- 
ture them  in  the  vaults  of  the  Holy  Office  or  to  immure  them 
in  the  walls  of  nunneries  ? 

When  I  had  lived  a  month  in  Tobasco  I  had  learned 
enough  of  the  language  to  talk  with  Marina,  with  whom  I 
grew  friendly,  though  no  more,  and  it  was  from  her  that  I 
gathered  the  most  of  my  knowledge,  and  also  many  hints  as 


THE  SAVING  OF  GUATEMOC  107 

to  the  conduct  necessary  to  my  safety.  In  return  I  taught  her 
something  of  my  own  faith,  and  of  the  customs  of  the  Euro- 
peans, and  it  was  the  knowledge  that  she  gained  from  me 
which  afterwards  made  her  so  useful  to  the  Spaniards,  and 
prepared  her  to  accept  their  religion,  giving  her  insight  into 
the  ways  of  white  people. 

So  I  abode  for  four  months  and  more  in  the  house  of  the 
cacique  of  Tobasco,  who  carried  his  kindness  towards  me  to 
the  length  of  offering  me  his  sister  in  marriage.  To  this 
proposal  I  said  no  as  gently  as  I  might,  and  he  marvelled  at 
it,  for  the  girl  was  fair.  Indeed,  so  well  was  I  treated,  that 
had  it  not  been  that  my  heart  was  far  away,  and  because  of 
the  horrible  rites  of  their  religion  which  I  was  forced  to  wit- 
ness almost  daily,  I  'could  have  learned  to  love  this  gentle, 
skilled,  and  industrious  people. 

At  length,  when  full  four  months  had  passed  away,  the 
messengers  returned  from  the  court  of  Montezuma,  having 
been  much  delayed  by  swollen  rivers  and  other  accidents  of 
travel.  So  great  was  the  importance  that  the  Emperor  at- 
tached to  the  fact  of  my  capture,  and  so  desirous  was  he  to  see 
me  at  his  capital,  that  he  had  sent  his  own  nephew,  the  Prince 
Guatemoc,  to  fetch  me  and  a  great  escort  of  warriors  with  him. 

Never  shall  I  forget  my  first  meeting  with  this  prince  who 
afterwards  became  my  dear  companion  and  brother  in  arms. 
When  the  esc'ort  arrived  I  was  away  from  the  town  shooting 
deer  with  the  bow  and  arrow,  a  weapon  in  the  use  of  which  I 
had  such  skill  that  all  the  Indians  wondered  at  me,  not  know- 
ing that  twice  I  had  won  the  prize  at  the  butts  on  Bungay 
Common.  Our  party  being  summoned  by  a  messenger,  we 
returned  bearing  our  deer  with  us.  On  reaching  the  courtyard 
of  the  cacique's  house,  I  found  it  filled  with  warriors  most 
gorgeously  attired,  and  among  them  one  more  splendid  than 
the  rest.  He  was  young,  very  tall  and  broad,  most  handsome 
in  face,  and  having  eyes  like  those  of  an  eagle,  while  his 
whole  aspect  breathed  majesty  and  command.  His  body  was 
encased  in  a  cuirass  of  gold,  over  which  hung  a  mantle  made 
of  the  most  gorgeous  feathers,  exquisitely  set  in  bands  of 
different  colours.  On  his  head  he  wore  a  helmet  of  gold 
surmounted  by  the  royal  crest,  an  eagle,  standing  on  a  snake 
fashioned  in  gold  and  gems.  On  his  arms,  and  beneath  his 
knees,  he  wore  circlets  of  gold  and  gems,  and  in  his  hand  was 
a  copper-bladed  spear.  Round  this  man  were  many  nobles 
dressed  in  a  somewhat  similar  fashion,  except  that  the  most 


loS  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

of  them  wore  a  vest  of  quilted  cotton  in  place  of  the  gold 
cuirass,  and  a  jewelled  panache  of  the  plumes  of  birds  instead 
of  the  royal  symbol. 

This  was  Guatemoc,  Montezuma's  nephew,  and  after- 
wards the  last  emperor  of  Anahuac.  So  soon  as  I  saw  him  I 
saluted  him  in  the  Indian  fashion  by  touching  the  earth  with 
my  right  hand,  which  I  then  raised  to  my  head.  But 
Guatemoc,  having  scanned  me  with  his  eye  as  I  stood,  bow  in 
hand,  attired  in  my  simple  hunter's  dress,  smiled  frankly  and 
said: 

'  Surely,  Teule,  if  I  know  anything  of  the  looks  of  men. 
we  are  too  equal  in  our  birth,  as  in  our  age,  for  you  to  salute 
me  as  a  slave  greets  his  master.'  And  he  held  his  hand  to  me 

I  took .  it,  answering  with  the  help  of  Marina,  who  wa^ 
watching  this  great  lord  with  eager  eyes. 

'  It  may  be  so,  prince,  but  though  in  my  own  country  1 
am  a  man  of  repute  and  wealth,  here  I  am  nothing  but  i 
slave  snatched  from  the  sacrifice.' 

'  I  know  it,'  he  said  frowning.     *  It  is  well  for  all  here  tha 
you  were  so  snatched  before  the  breath  of  life  had  left  you , 
else  Montezuma's  wrath  had  fallen  on  this  city.'     And  he- 
looked  at  the  cacique  who  trembled,  such  in  those  days  wa ; 
the  terror  of  Montezuma's  name. 

Then  he  asked  me  if  I  was  a  Teule  or  Spaniard.  I  told 
him  that  I  was  no  Spaniard  but  one  of  another  white  race  wh<  > 
had  Spanish  blood  in  his  veins.  This  saying  seemed  to  puzzl  3 
him,  for  he  had  never  so  much  as  heard  of  any  other  white  race , 
so  I  told  him  something  of  my  story,  at  least  so  much  of  it  as 
had  to  do  with  my  being  cast  away. 

When  I  had  finished,  he  said,  *  If  I  have  understood  arighl , 
Teule,  you  say  that  you  are  no  Spaniard,  yet  that  you  have 
Spanish  blood  in  you,  and  came  hither  in  a  Spanish  ship, 
and  I  find  this  story  strange.  Well,  it  is  for  Montezuma  to 
judge  of  these  matters,  so  let  us  talk  of  them  no  more.  Come 
and  show  me  how  you  handle  that  great  bow  of  yours.  Did 
you  bring  it  with  you  or  did  you  fashion  it  here  ?  They  tell 
me,  Teule,  that  there  is  no  such  archer  in  the  land.' 

So  I  came  up  and  showed  him  the  bow  which  was  of  my  own 
make,  and  would  shoot  an  arrow  some  sixty  paces  further  than 
any  that  I  saw  in  Anahuac,  and  we  fell  into  talk  on  matters 
of  sport  and  war,  Marina  helping  out  my  want  of  language, 
and  before  that  day  was  done  we  had  grown  friendly. 

For  a  week  the  prince  Guatemoc  and  his  company  rested 
in  the  town  of  Tobasco,  and  all  this  time  we  three  talked 


i  saluted  him  in  the  Indian  fashion. 


THE  SAVING   OF  GUATEMOC  109 

much  together.  Soon  I  saw  that  Marina  looked  with  eyes 
of  longing  on  the  great  lord,  partly  because  of  his  beauty  rank 
and  might,  and  partly  because  she  wearied  of  her  captivity  in 
the  house  of  the  cacique,  and  would  share  Guatemoc's  power, 
for  Marina  was  ambitious.  She  tried  to  win  his  heart  in  many 
ways,  but  he  seemed  not  to  notice  her,  so  that  at  last  she 
spoke  more  plainly  and  in  my  hearing. 

4  You  go  hence  to-morrow,  prince,'  she  said  softly,  '  and  I 
have  a  favour  to  ask  of  you,  if  you  will  listen  to  your  hand- 
maid.' 

*  Speak  on,  maiden,'  he  answered. 

'  I  would  ask  this,  that  if  it  pleases  you,  you  will  buy  me 
of  the  cacique  my  master,  or  command  him  to  give  me  up  to 
you,  and  take  me  with  you  to  Tenoctitlan.' 

Guatemoc  laughed  aloud.  '  You  put  things  plamly, 
maiden,'  he  said,  *  but  know  that  in  the  city  of  Tenoctitlan, 
my  wife  and  royal  cousin,  Tecuichpo,  awaits  me,  and  with  her 
three  other  ladies,  who  as  it  chances  are  somewhat  jealous.' 

Now  Marina  flushed  beneath  her  brown  skin,  and  for  the 
first  and  last  time  I  saw  her  gentle  eyes  grow  hard  with 
anger  as  she  answered  : 

*  I  asked  you  to  take  me  with  you,  prince  ;  I  did  not  ask  to 
be  your  wife  or  love.' 

'  But  perchance  you  meant  it,'  he  said  dryly. 

1  Whatever  I  may  have  meant,  prince,  it  is  now  forgotten. 
I  wished  to  see  the  great  city  and  the  great  king,  because  I 
weary  of  my  life  here  and  would  myself  grow  great.  You 
have  refused  me,  but  perhaps  a  time  will  corne  when  I  shall 
grow  great  in  spite  of  you,  and  then  I  may  remember  the 
shame  that  has  been  put  upon  me  against  you,  prince,  and  all 
your  royal  house.' 

Again  Guatemoc  laughed,  then  of  a  sudden  grew  stern. 

'You  are  over-bold,  girl,'  he  said;  'for  less  words  than 
these  many  a  one  might  find  herself  stretched  upon  the  stone 
of  sacrifice.  But  I  will  forget  them,  for  your  woman's  pride 
is  stung,  and  you  know  not  what  you  say.  Do  you  forget 
them  also,  Teule,  if  you  have  understood.' 

Then  Marina  turned  and  went,  her  bosom  heaving  with 
anger  and  outraged  love  or  pride,  and  as  she  passed  me  I 
heard  her  mutter, « Yes,  prince,  you  may  forget,  but  I  shall  not.' 

Often  since  that  day  I  have  wondered  if  some  vision  of 
the  future  entered  into  the  girl's  breast  in  that  hour,  or  if  in 
her  wrath  she  spoke  at  random.  I  have  wondered  also 
whether  this  scene  between  her  and  Guatemoc  had  anything  to 


no  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

do  with  the  history  of  her  after  life ;  or  did  Marina,  as  she  avowed 
to  me  in  days  to  come,  bring  shame  and  ruin  on  her  country 
for  the  love  of  Cortes  alone  ?  It  is  hard  to  say,  and  perhaps 
these  things  had  nothing  to  do  with  what  followed,  for  when 
great  events  have  happened,  we  are  apt  to  search  out  causes  for 
them  in  the  past  that  were  no  cause.  This  may  have  been 
but  a  passing  mood  of  hers  and  one  soon  put  out  of  mind,  for 
it  is  certain  that  few  build  up  the  temples  of  their  lives  upon 
some  firm  foundation  of  hope  or  hate,  of  desire  or  despair, 
though  it  has  happened  to  me  to  do  so,  but  rather  take  chance 
for  their  architect — and  indeed  whether  they  take  him  or  no, 
he  is  still  the  master  builder.  Still  that  Marina  did  not 
forget  this  talk  I  know,  for  in  after  times  I  heard  her  remind 
this  very  prince  of  the  words  that  had  passed  between  them, 
ay,  and  heard  his  noble  answer  to  her. 

Now  I  have  but  one  more  thing  to  tell  of  my  stay  in  Tobasco, 
and  then  let  me  on  to  Mexico,  and  to  the  tale  of  howMontezuma's 
daughter  became  my  wife,  and  of  my  further  dealings  with  de 
Garcia. 

On  the  day  of  our  departure  a  great  sacrifice  of  slaves 
was  held  upon  the  teocalli  to  propitiate  the  gods,  so  that  they 
might  give  us  a  safe  joarney,  and  also  in  honour  of  some 
festival,  for  to  the  festivals  of  the  Indians  there  was  no  end. 
Thither  we  went  up  the  sides  of  the  steep  pyramid,  since  I 
must  look  upon  these  horrors  daily.  When  all  was  prepared, 
and  we  stood  around  the  stone  of  sacrifice  while  the  multitude 
watched  below,  that  fierce  paba  who  once  had  felt  the  beat- 
ings of  my  heart,  came  forth  from  the  sanctuary  of  the  god 
Quetzal  and  signed  to  his  companions  to  stretch  the  first 
of  the  victims  on  the  stone.  Then  of  a  sudden  the  prince 
Guatemoc  stepped  forward,  and  addressing  the  priests,  pointed 
to  their  chief,  and  said : 

'  Seize  that  man  ! ' 

They  hesitated,  for  though  he  who  commanded  was  a, 
prince  of  the  blood  royal,  to  lay  hands  upon  a  high  priest  was 
sacrilege.  Then  with  a  smile  Guatemoc  drew  forth  a  ring- 
having  a  dull  blue  stone  set  in  its  bezel,  on  which  was 
engraved  a  strange  device.  With  the  ring  he  drew  out  also 
a  scroll  of  picture-writing,  and  held  them  both  before  the  eyes 
of  the  pabas.  Now  the  ring  was  the  ring  of  Montezuma,  anc. 
the  scroll  was  signed  by  the  great  high  priest  of  Tenoctitlan. 
and  those  who  looked  on  the  ring  and  the  scroll  knew  wel 
that  to  disobey  the  mandate  of  him  who  bore  them  was  deatl. 


THE  SAVING  OF  GUATEMOC  in 

and  dishonour  in  one.  So  without  more  ado  they  seized  their 
chief  and  held  him.  Then  Guatemoc  spoke  again  and  shortly  : 

'Lay  him  on  the  stone  and  sacrifice  him  to  the  god 
Quetzal.' 

Now  he  who  had  taken  such  fierce  joy  in  the  death  of 
others  on  this  same  stone,  began  to  tremble  and  weep,  for  he 
did  not  desire  to  drink  of  his  own  medicine. 

4  Why  must  I  be  offered  up,  0  prince  ?  '  he  cried,  '  I  who 
have  been  a  faithful  servant  to  the  gods  and  to  the  Emperor.' 

'  Because  you  dared  to  try  to  ofterupthis  Teule,'  answered 
Guatemoc,  pointing  to  me,  *  without  leave  from  your  master 
Montezuma,  and  because  of  the  other  evils  that  you  have 
done,  all  of  which  are  written  in  this  scroll.  The  Teule  is  a 
son  of  Quetzal,  as  you  have  yourself  declared,  and  Quetzal 
will  be  avenged  because  of  his  son.  Away  with  him,  here  is 
your  warrant.' 

Then  the  priests,  who  till  this  moment  had  been  his 
servants,  dragged  their  chief  to  the  stone,  and  there,  notwith- 
standing his  prayers  and  bellowings,  one  who  had  donned  his 
mantle  practised  his  own  art  upon  him,  and  presently  his 
body  was  cast  down  the  side  of  the  pyramid.  For  my  part 
I  am  not  sufficient  of  a  Christian  to  pretend  that  I  was  sorry 
to  see  him  die  in  that  same  fashion  by  which  he  had  caused 
the  death  of  so  many  better  men. 

When  it  was  done  Guatemoc  turned  to  me  and  said,  '  So 
perish  all  your  enemies,  my  friend  Teule.' 

Within  an  hour  of  this  event,  which  revealed  to  me  how 
great  was  the  power  of  Montezuma,  seeing  that  the  sight  of  a 
ring  from  his  finger  could  bring  about  the  instant  death  of  a 
high  priest  at  the  hands  of  his  disciples,  we  started  on  our 
long  journey.  But  before  I  went  I  bid  a  warm  farewell  to  my 
friend  the  cacique,  and  also  to  Marina,  who  wept  at  my  going. 
The  cacique  I  never  saw  again,  but  Marina  I  did  see. 

For  a  whole  month  we  travelled,  for  the  way  was  far  and 
the  road  rough,  and  sometimes  we  must  cut  our  path  through 
forests  and  sometimes  we  must  wait  upon  the  banks  of  rivers. 
Many  were  the  strange  sights  that  I  saw  upon  that  journey, 
and  many  the  cities  in  which  we  sojourned  in  much  state  and 
honour,  but  I  cannot  stop  to  tell  of  all  these. 

One  thing  I  will  relate,  however,  though  briefly,  because 
it  changed  the  regard  that  the  prince  Guatemoc  and  I  felt  one 
to  the  other  into  a  friendship  which  lasted  till  his  death,  and 
indeed  endures  in  my  heart  to  this  hour. 


112  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

One  day  we  were  delayed  by  the  banks  of  a  swollen  river, 
and  in  pastime  went  out  to  hunt  for  deer.  When  we  had 
hunted  a  while  and  killed  three  deer,  it  chanced  that 
Guatemoc  perceived  a  buck  standing  on  a  hillock,  and  we  set 
out  to  stalk  it,  five  of  us  in  all.  But  the  buck  was  in  the 
open,  and  the  trees  and  bush  ceased  a  full  hundred  yards  away 
from  where  he  stood,  so  that  there  was  no  way  by  which  we 
might  draw  near  to  him.  Then  Guatemoc  began  to  mock 
me,  saying,  '  Now,  Teule,  they  tell  tales  of  your  archery,  and 
this  deer  is  thrice  as  far  as  we  Aztecs  can  make  sure  of  killing. 
Let  us  see  your  skill.' 

'  I  will  try,'  I  answered,  ( though  the  shot  is  long.' 

So  we  drew  beneath  the  cover  of  a  ceiba  tree,  of  which 
the  lowest  branches  drooped  to  within  fifteen  feet  of  the 
ground,  and  having  set  an  arrow  on  the  string  of  the  great 
bow  that  I  had  fashioned  after  the  shape  of  those  we  use  in 
merry  England,  I  aimed  and  drew  it.  Straight  sped  the  arrow 
and  struck  the  buck  fair,  passing  through  its  heart,  and  a  low 
murmur  of  wonderment  went  up  from  those  who  saw  the  feat. 

Then,  just  as  we  prepared  to  go  to  the  fallen  deer,  a  male 
puma,  which  is  nothing  but  a  cat,  though  fifty  times  as  big, 
that  had  been  watching  the  buck  from  above,  dropped  down 
from  the  boughs  of  the  ceiba  tree  full  on  to  the  shoulders 
of  the  prince  Guatemoc,  felling  him  to  the  ground,  where  he 
lay  face  downwards  while  the  fierce  brute  clawed  and  bit  at 
his  back.  Indeed  had  it  not  been  for  his  golden  cuirass  and 
helm  Guatemoc  would  never  have  lived  to  be  emperor  of 
Anahuac,  and  perhaps  it  might  have  been  better  so. 

Now  when  they  saw  the  puma  snarling  and  tearing  at  the 
person  of  their  prince,  though  brave  men  enough,  the  three 
nobles  who  were  with  us  were  seized  by  sudden  panic  and 
ran,  thinking  him  dead.  But  I  did  not  run,  though  I  should 
have  been  glad  enough  to  do  so.  At  my  side  hung  one  of  the 
Indian  weapons  that  serve  them  instead  of  swords,  a  club  of 
wood  set  on  both  sides  with  spikes  of  obsidian,  like  the  teeth 
in  the  bill  of  a  swordfish.  Snatching  it  from  its  loop  I  gave 
the  puma  battle,  striking  a  blow  upon  his  head  that  rolled  him 
over  and  caused  the  blood  to  pour.  In  a  moment  he  was  up  and 
at  me  roaring  with  rage.  Whirling  the  wooden  sword  with 
both  hands  I  smote  him  in  mid  air,  the  blow  passing  between 
his  opened  paws  and  catching  him  full  on  the  snout  and  head. 
So  hard  was  this  stroke  that  my  weapon  was  shattered,  still 
it  did  not  stop  the  puma.  In  a  second  I  was  cast  to  the  earth 
with  a  great  shock,  and  the  brute  was  on  me  tearing  and 


THE  SAVING  OF  GUATEMOC  113 

biting  at  my  chest  and  neck.  It  was  well  for  me  at  that 
moment  that  I  wore  a  garment  of  quilted  cotton,  otherwise  I 
must  have  been  ripped  open,  and  even  with  this  covering  I 
was  sadly  torn,  and  to  this  day  I  bear  the  marks  of  the  beast's 
claws  upon  my  body.  But  now  when  I  seemed  to  bejost  the 
great  blow  that  I  had  struck  took  effect  on  him,  for  one  of  the 
points  of  glass  had  pierced  to  his  brain.  He  lifted  his  head, 
his  claws  contracted  themselves  in  my  flesh,  then  he  howled 
like  a  dog  in  pain  and  fell  dead  upon  my  body.  So  I  lay 
upon  the  ground  unable  to  stir,  for  I  was  much  hurt,  until 
my  companions,  having  taken  heart,  came  back  and  pulled 
the  puma  off  me.  By  this  time  Guatemoc,  who  saw  all,  but 
till  now  was  unable  to  move  from  lack  of  breath,  had  found 
his  feet  again. 

'  Teule,'  he  gasped,  '  you  are  a  brave  man  indeed,  and  if 
you  live  I  swear  that  I  will  always  stand  your  friend  to  the 
death  as  you  have  stood  mine.' 

Thus  he  spoke  to  me  ;  but  to  the  others  he  said  nothing, 
casting  no  reproaches  at  them. 

Then  I  fainted  away. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE    COURT    OF    MONTEZUMA 

Now  for  a  week  I  was  so  ill  from  my  wounds  that  I  was  unable 
to  be  moved,  and  then  I  must  be  carried  in  a  litter  till  we 
came  to  within  three  days'  journey  of  the  city  of  Tenoctitlan  or 
Mexico.  After  that,  as  the  roads  were  now  better  made  and 
cared  for  than  any  I  have  seen  in  England,  I  was  able  to  take 
to  my  feet  again.  Of  this  I  was  glad,  for  I  have  no  love  of 
being  borne  on  the  shoulders  of  other  men  after  the  womanish 
Indian  fashion,  and,  moreover,  as  we  had  now  come  to  a  cold 
country,  the  road  running  through  vast  table-lands  and  across 
the  tops  of  mountains,  it  was  no  longer  necessary  as  it  had 
been  in  the  hot  lands.  Never  did  I  see  anything  more  dreary 
than  these  immense  lengths  of  desolate  plains  covered  with 
aloes  and  other  thorny  and  succulent  shrubs  of  fantastic  aspect, 
which  alone  could  live  on  the  sandy  and  waterless  soil.  This 
is  a  strange  land,  that  can  boast  three  separate  climates  within 
its  borders,  and  is  able  to  show  all  the  glories  of  the. tropics 
side  by  side  with  deserts  of  measureless  expanse. 


lt4  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

One  night  we  camped  in  a  rest  house,  of  which  there 
were  many  built  along  the  roads  for  the  use  of  travellers, 
that  was  placed  almost  on  the  top  of  the  sierra  or  mountain 
range  which  surrounds  the  valley  of  Tenoctitlan.  Next 
morning  we  took  the  road  again  before  dawn,  for  the  cold  was 
so  sharp  at  this  great  height  that  we,  who  had  travelled  from 
the  hot  land,  could  sleep  very  little,  and  also  Guatemoc  desired 
if  it  were  possible  to  reach  the  city  that  night. 

When  we  had  gone  a  few  hundred  paces  the  path  came  to 
the  crest  of  the  mountain  range,  and  I  halted  suddenly  in 
wonder  and  admiration.  Below  me  lay  a  vast  bowl  of  land  and 
water,  of  which,  however,  I  could  see  nothing,  for  the  shadows 
of  the  night  still  filled  it.  But  before  me,  piercing  the  very 
clouds,  towered  the  crests  of  two  snowclad  mountains,  and  on 
these  the  light  of  the  unrisen  sun  played,  already  changing  their 
whiteness  to  the  stain  of  blood.  Popo,  or  the  Hill  that  Smokes, 
is  the  name  of  the  one,  and  Ixtac,  or  the  Sleeping  Woman, 
that  of  the  other,  and  no  grander  sight  was  ever  offered  to  the 
eyes  of  man  than  they  furnished  in  that  hour  before  the  dawn. 
From  the  lofty  summit  of  Popo  went  up  great  columns  of 
smoke  which,  what  with  the  fire  in  their  heart  and  the  crimsoi 
of  the  sunrise,  looked  like  rolling  pillars  of  flame.  And  for 
the  glory  of  the  glittering  slopes  below,  that  changed  con- 
tinually from  the  mystery  of  white  to  dull  red,  from  red  t( 
crimson,  and  from  crimson  to  every  dazzling  hue  that  th< 
rainbow  holds,  who  can  tell  it,  who  can  even  imagine  it 
None,  indeed,  except  those  that  have  seen  the  sun  rise  ovei 
the  volcans  of  Tenoctitlan. 

When  I  had  feasted  my  eyes  on  Popo  I  turned  to  Ixtac.    Sh< 
is  not  so  lofty  as  her  'husband,'  for  so  the  Aztecs  name  th< 
volcan  Popo,  and  when  first  I  looked  I  could  see  nothing  but 
the  gigantic  shape  of  a  woman  fashioned  in  snow,  and  lyin< 
like  a  corpse  upon  her  lofty  bier,  whose  hair  streamed  down  th( 
mountain  side.     But  now  the  sunbeams  caught  her  also,  am 
she  seemed  to  start  out  in  majesty  from  a  veil  of  rosy  mist, 
wonderful  and  thrilling  sight.    But  beautiful  as  she  was  then, 
still  I  love  the  Sleeping  Woman  best  at  eve.     Then  she  lies 
shape  of  glory  on  the  blackness  beneath,  and  is  slowly  swallow* 
up  into  the  solemn  night  as  the  dark  draws  its  veil  across  her. 

Now  as  I  gazed  the  light  began  to  creep  down  the  side 
of  the  volcans,  revealing  the  forests  on  their  flanks.  But  sti] 
the  vast  valley  was  filled  with  mist  that  lay  in  dense  billows 
resembling  those  of  the  sea,  through  which  hills  and  tempi* 
tops  started  up  like  islands.  By  slow  degrees  as  we  passe 


THE  COURT  OF  MONTEZUMA  115 

upon  our  downward  road  the  vapours  cleared  away,  and 
the  lakes  of  Tezcuco,  Chalco,  and  Xochicalco  shone  in  the 
sunlight  like  giant  mirrors.  On  their  banks  stood  many  cities 
indeed  the  greatest  of  these,  Mexico,  seemed  to  float  upon 
the  waters ;  beyond  them  and  about  them  were  green  fields 
of  corn  and  aloe,  and  groves  of  forest  trees,  while  far  away 
towered  the  black  wall  of  rock  that  hedges  in  the  valley. 

All  day  we  journeyed  swiftly  through  this  fairy  land. 
We  passed  through  the  cities  of  Amaquem  and  Ajotzinco 
which  I  will  not  stay  to  describe,  and  many  a  lovely  village 
that  nestled  upon  the  borders  of  Lake  Chalco.  Then  we 
entered  on  the  great  causeway  of  stone  built  like  a  road  resting 
on  the  waters,  and  with  the  afternoon  we  came  to  the  town 
of  Cuitlahuac.  Thence  we  passed  on  to  Iztapalapan,  and  here 
Guatemoc  would  have  rested  for  the  night  in  the  royal  house 
of  his  uncle  Cuitlahua.  But  when  we  reached  the  town  we 
found  that  Montezuma,  who  had  been  advised  of  our  approach 
by  runners,  had  sent  orders  that  we  were  to  push  on  to 
Tenoctitlan,  and  that  palanquins  had  been  made  ready  to  bear 
us.  So  we  entered  the  palanquins,  and  leaving  that  lovely 
city  of  gardens,  were  borne  swiftly  along  the  southern  cause- 
way. On  we  went  past  towns  built  upon  piles  fixed  in  the 
bottom  of  the  lake,  pa-t  gardens  that  were  laid  out  on  reeds 
;tu<l  floated  over  the  waters  like  a  boat,  past  tcocallis  and 
glistening  temples  without  number,  through  fleets  of  light 
canoes  and  thousands  of  Indians  going  to  and  fro  about  thnr 
business,  till  at  length  towards  sun  •  t  \\v  ivacht •«!  the  battle- 
i united  fort  that  is  called  Xoloc  which  stands  upon  the  dyke. 
I  say  stands,  but  alas  !  it  stands  no  more.  Cortes  has  de- 
stroyed it,  and  with  it  all  those  glorious  cities  which  my  eyes 
beheld  that  d;i  y. 

At  Xoloc  we  began  to  enter  the  city  of  Tenoctitlan  or 
Mexico,  the  mightiest  city  that  ever  I  had  seen.  The  houses 
on  the  outskirts,  indeed,  were  built  of  mud  or  adobe,  but  those 
in  the  richer  parts  were  constructed  of  red  stone.  Each  house 
surrounded  a  courtyard  and  was  in  turn  surrounded  by  a 
garden,  while  between  them  ran  canals,  having  footpaths  on 
either  side.  Then  there  were  squares,  and  in  the  squares 
pyramids,  palaces,  and  temples  without  end.  I  gazed  on  them 
till  I  was  bewildered,  but  all  seemed  as  nothing  when  at 
length  I  saw  the  great  temple  with  its  stone  gateways  open- 
ing to  the  north  and  the  south,  the  east  and  the  west,  its  wall 
carven  everywhere  with  serpents,  its  polished  pavements,  its 
teocallis  decked  with  human  skulls,  thousands  upon  thousands 

I  2 


il6  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

of  them,  and  its  vast  surrounding  tianquez,  or  market  place. 
I  caught  but  a  glimpse  of  it  then,  for  the  darkness  was  falling, 
and  afterwards  we  were  borne  on  through  the  darkness,  I 
did  not  know  whither. 

A  while  went  by  and  I  saw  that  we  had  left  the  city,  and 
were  passing  up  a  steep  hill  beneath  the  shadow  of  mighty 
cedar  trees.  Presently  we  halted  in  a  courtyard  and  here  I 
was  bidden  to  alight.  Then  the  prince  Guatemoc  led  me 
into  a  wondrous  house,  of  which  all  the  rooms  were  roofed 
with  cedar  wood,  and  its  walls  hung  with  richly- coloured 
cloths,  and  in  that  house  gold  seemed  as  plentiful  as  bricks 
and  oak  are  with  us  in  England.  Led  by  domestics  who 
bore  cedar  wands  in  their  hands,  we  went  through  many 
passages  and  rooms,  till  at  length  we  came  to  a  chamber 
where  other  domestics  were  awaiting  us,  who  washed  us  with 
scented  waters  and  clothed  us  in  gorgeous  apparel.  Thence 
they  conducted  us  to  a  door  where  we  were  bidden  to  remove 
our  shoes,  and  a  coarse  coloured  robe  was  given  to  each  of  us 
to  hide  our  splendid  dress.  The  robes  having  been  put  on, 
we  were  suffered  to  pass  the  door,  and  found  ourselves  in  a 
vast  chamber  in  which  were  many  noble  men  and  some 
women,  all  standing  and  clad  in  coarse  robes.  At  the  far  end 
of  this  chamber  was  a  gilded  screen,  and  from  behind  it  floated 
sounds  of  sweet  music. 

Now  as  we  stood  in  the  great  chamber  that  was  lighted 
with  sweet -smelling  torches,  many  men  advanced  and  greeted 
Guatemoc  the  prince,  and  I  noticed  that  all  of  them  looked 
upon  me  curiously.  Presently  a  woman  came  and  I  saw  that 
her  beauty  was  great.  She  was  tall  and  stately,  and  beneath 
her  rough  outer  robe  splendidly  attired  in  worked  and  jewelled 
garments.  Weary  and  bewildered  as  I  was,  her  loveliness 
seized  me  as  it  were  in  a  vice,  never  before  had  I  seen  such 
loveliness.  For  her  eye  was  proud  and  full  like  the  eye  of  a 
buck,  her  curling  hair  fell  upon  her  shoulders,  and  her  features 
were  very  noble,  yet  tender  almost  to  sadness,  though  at  times 
she  could  seem  fierce  enough.  This  lady  was  yet  in  her  first 
youth,  perchance  she  may  have  seen  some  eighteen  years, 
but  her  shape  was  that  of  a  full-grown  woman  and  most  royal. 

'  Greeting,  Guatemoc  my  cousin,'  she  said  in  a  sweet 
voice  ;  '  so  you  are  come  at  last.  My  royal  father  has  awaited 
you  for  long  and  will  ask  questions  as  to  your  delay.  My 
sister  your  wife  has  wondered  also  why  you  tarried.' 

Now  as  she  spoke  I  felt  rather  than  saw  that  this  lady 
was  searching  me  with  her  eyes. 


THE  COURT  OF  MONTEZUMA  117 

'  Greeting,  Otomie  my  cousin,'  answered  the  prince.  *  I 
have  been  delayed  by  the  accidents  of  travel.  Tobasco  is  far 
away,  also  my  charge  and  companion,  Teule,'  and  he  nodded 
towards  me,  '  met  with  an  accident  on  the  road.' 

'  What  was  the  accident  ?  '  she  asked. 

1  Only  this,  that  he  saved  me  from  the  jaws  of  a  puma  at 
the  risk  of  his  life  when  all  the  others  fled  from  me,  and  was 
somewhat  hurt  in  the  deed.  He  saved  me  thus — '  and  in  few 
words  he  told  the  story. 

She  listened  and  I  saw  that  her  eyes  sparkled  at  the 
tale.  When  it  was  done  she  spoke  again,  and  this  time  to  me. 

1  Welcome,  Teule,'  she  said  smiling.  *  You  are  not  of  our 
people,  yet  my  heart  goes  out  to  such  a  man.'  And  still 
smiling  she  left  us. 

*  Who  is  that  great  lady  ?  '  I  asked  of  Guatemoc. 

1  That  is  my  cousin  Otomie,  the  princess  of  the  Otomie,  my 
uncle  Montezuma's  favourite  daughter,'  he  answered.  •  She 
likes  you,  Teule,  and  that  is  well  for  you  for  many  reasons. 
Hush  ! ' 

As  he  spoke  the  screen  at  the  far  end  of  the  chamber  was 
drawn  aside.  Beyond  it  a  man  sat  upon  a  broidered  cushion, 
who  was  inhaling  the  fumes  of  the  tobacco  weed  from  a  gilded 
pipe  of  wood  after  the  Indian  fashion.  This  man,  who  was  no 
other  than  the  monarch  Montezuma,  was  of  a  tall  build  and 
melancholy  countenance,  having  a  very  pale  face  for  one  of  his 
nation,  and  thin  black  hair.  He  was  dressed  in  a  white  robe 
of  the  purest  cotton,  and  wore  a  golden  belt  and  sandals  sot 
with  pearls,  and  on  his  head  a  plume  of  feathers  of  the  royal 
green.  Behind  him  were  a  band  of  beautiful  girls  somewhat 
slightly  clothed,  some  of  whom  played  on  lutes  and  other  in- 
struments of  music,  and  on  either  side  stood  four  ancient  coun- 
sellors, all  of  them  barefooted  and  clad  in  the  coarsest  garments. 

So  soon  as  the  screen  was  drawn  all  the  company  in  the 
chamber  prostrated  themselves  upon  their  knees,  an  example 
that  I  hastened  to  follow,  and  thus  they  remained  till  the 
emperor  made  a  sign  with  the  gilded  bowl  of  his  pipe,  when 
they  rose  to  their  feet  again  and  stood  with  folded  hands 
and  eyes  fixed  abjectly  upon  the  floor.  Presently  Montezuma 
made  another  signal,  and  three  aged  men  whom  I  understood 
to  be  ambassadors,  advanced  and  asked  some  prayer  of  him. 
He  answered  them  with  a  nod  of  the  head  and  they  retreated 
from  his  presence,  making  obeisance  and  stepping  backward 
till  they  mingled  with  the  crowd.  Then  the  emperor  spoke 
a  word  to  one  of  the  counsellors,  who  bowed  and  came 


Ii8  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

slowly  down  the  hall  looking  to  the  right  and  to  the  left. 
Presently  his  eye  fell  upon  Guatemoc,  and,  indeed,  he  was  easy 
to  see,  for  he  stood  a  head  taller  than  any  there. 

'  Hail,  prince,'  he  said.  '  The  royal  Montezuma  desires  tc 
speak  with  you,  and  with  the  Teule,  your  companion.' 

*  Do  as  I  do,  Teule,'  said  Guatemoc,  and  led  the  way  up 
the  chamber,  till  we  reached  the  place  where   the  wooden 
screen  had  been,  which,  as  we  passed  it,  was  drawn  behind 
us,  shutting  us  off  from  the  hall. 

Here  we  stood  a  while,  with  folded  hands  and  downcast 
eyes,  till  a  signal  was  made  to  us  to  advance. 

1  Your  report,  nephew,'  said  Montezuma  in  a  low  voice  of 
command. 

*  I  went  to  the  city  of  Tobasco,  0  glorious  Montezuma.     I 
found  the  Teule  and  brought  him  hither.     Also  I  caused  the 
high  priest  to  be  sacrificed  according  to  the  royal  command, 
and  now  I  hand  back  the  imperial  signet,'  and  he  gave  the 
ring  to  a  counsellor. 

'  Why  did  you  delay  so  long  upon  the  road,  nephew  ?  ' 

'  Because  of  the  chances  of  the  journey  ;  while  saving  my 
life,  royal  Montezuma,  the  Teule  my  prisoner  was  bitten  by.  a 
puma.  Its  skin  is  brought  to  you  as  an  offering.' 

Now  Montezuma  looked  at  me  for  the  first  time,  then 
opened  a  picture  scroll  that  one  of  the  counsellors  handed  to 
him,  and  read  in  it,  glancing  at  me  from  time  to  time. 

'  The  description  is  good,'  he  said  at  length,  *  in  all  save 
one  thing — it  does  not  say  that  this  prisoner  is  the  handsomest 
man  in  Anahuac.  Say,  Teule,  why  have  your  countrymen 
landed  on  my  dominions  and  slain  my  people  ?  ' 

'  I  know  nothing  of  it,  0  king,'  I  answered  as  well  as  I 
might  with  the  help  of  Guatemoc,  '  and  they  are  not  my 
countrymen.' 

'  The  report  says  that  you  confess  to  having  the  blood  of 
these  Teules  in  your  veins,  and  that  you  came  to  these  shores, 
or  near  them,  in  one  of  their  great  canoes.' 

4  That  is  so,  0  king,  yet  I  am  not  of  their  people,  and 
I  came  to  the  shore  floating  on  a  barrel.' 

'  I  hold  that  you  lie,'  answered  Montezuma  frowning,  '  for 
the  sharks  and  crocodiles  would  devour  one  who  swam  thus.' 
Then  he  added  anxiously,  *  Say,  are  you  of  the  descendants  of 
Quetzal  ?  ' 

'  I  do  not  know,  0  king.  I  am  of  a  white  race,  and  our 
forefather  was  named  Adam.' 

1  Perchance  that  is  another  name  for  Quetzal,'  he  said.    '  It 


THE  COURT  OF  MONTEZUMA  119 

has  long  been  prophesied  that  his  children  would  return,  and 
now  it  seems  that  the  hour  of  their  coming  is  at  hand,'  and 
he  sighed  heavily,  then  added :  *  Go  now.  To-morrow  you 
shall  tell  me  of  these  Teules,  and  the  council  of  the  priests 
shall  decide  your  fate.' 

Now  when  I  heard  the  name  of  the  priests  I  trembled  in 
all  my  bones  and  cried,  clasping  my  hands  in  supplication  : 

*  Slay  me  if  you  will,  0  king,  but  I  beseech  you  deliver  me 
not  again  into  the  hands  of  the  priests.' 

'  We  are  all  in  the  hands  of  the  priests,  who  are  the  mouth 
of  God,'  he  answered  coldly.  '  Besides,  I  hold  that  you  have 
lied  to  me.' 

Then  I  went  foreboding  evil,  and  Guatemoc  also  looked 
downcast.  Bitterly  did  I  curse  the  hour  when  I  had  said  that  I 
was  of  the  Spanish  blood  and  yet  no  Spaniard.  Had  I  known 
even  what  I  knew  that  day,  torture  would  not  have  wrung 
those  words  from  me.  But  now  it  was  too  late. 

Now  Guatemoc  led  me  to  certain  apartments  of  this  palace 
of  Chapoltepec,  where  his  wife,  the  royal  princess  Tecuichpo, 
was  waiting  him,  a  very  lovely  lady,  and  with  her  other  ladies, 
among  them  the  princess  Otomie,  Montezuma's  daughter, 
and  some  nobles.  Here  a  rich  repast  was  served  to  us,  and 
I  was  seated  next  to  the  princess  Otomie,  who  spoke  to  me 
most  graciously,  asking  me  many  things  concerning  my 
land  and  the  people  of  the  Teules.  It  was  from  her  that  I 
learned  first  that  the  emperor  was  much  disturbed  at  heart 
because  of  these  Teules  or  Spaniards,  for  he  was  superstitious, 
and  held  them  to  be  the  children  of  the  god  Quetzal,  who 
according  to  ancient  prophecy  would  come  to  take  the  land. 
Indeed,  so  gracious  was  she,  and  so  royally  lovely,  that  for  the 
first  time  I  felt  my  heart  stirred  by  any  other  woman  than  my 
betrothed  whom  I  had  left  far  away  in  England,  and  whom, 
as  I  thought,  I  should  never  see  again.  And  as  I  learned  in 
after  days  mine  was  not  the  only  heart  that  was  stirred  thj-t 
night. 

Near  to  us  sat  another  royal  lady,  Papantzin,  the  sister  of 
Montezuma,  but  she  was  neither  young  nor  lovely,  and  yet 
most  sweet  faced  and  sad  as  though  with  the  presage  of 
death.  Indeed  she  died  not  many  weeks  after  but  could  not 
rest  quiet  in  her  grave,  as  shall  be  told. 

When  the  feast  was  done  and  we  had  drunk  of  the  cocoa 
or  chocolate,  and  smoked  tobacco  in  pipes,  a  strange  but  most 
soothing  custom  that  I  learned  in  Tobasco  and  of  which  I  have 
never  been  able  to  break  myself,  though  the  weed  is  still  hard  to 


120  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

come  by  here  in  England,  I  was  led  to  my  sleeping  place,  % 
small  chamber  panelled  with  cedar  boards.  For  a  while  ] 
could  not  sleep,  for  I  was  overcame  by  the  memory  of  all  the 
strange  sights  that  I  had  seen  in  this  wonderful  new  land  which 
was  so  civilised  and  yet  so  barbarous.  I  thought  of  that  sad- 
faced  king,  the  absolute  lord  of  millions,  surrounded  by  all  thai 
the  heart  of  man  can  desire,  by  vast  wealth,  by  hundreds 
of  lovely  wives,  by  loving  children,  by  countless  armies,  b} 
all  the  glory  of  the  arts,  ruling  over  the  fairest  empire  or 
the  earth,  with  every  pleasure  to  his  hand,  a  god  in  all  things 
save  his  mortality,  and  worshipped  as  a  god,  and  yet  a  victim 
to  fear  and  superstition,  and  more  heavy  hearted  than  the 
meanest  slave  about  his  palaces.  Here  was  a  lesson  such  as 
Solomon  would  have  loved  to  show,  for  with  Solomon  this 
Montezuma  might  cry : 

(I  gathered  me  also  silver  and  gold,  and  the  peculiai 
treasure  of  kings  and  of  the  provinces  :  I  gat  me  men 
singers  and  women  singers,  and  the  delights  of  the  sons  ol 
men,  and  musical  instruments,  and  that  of  all  sorts.  And 
whatsoever  my  eyes  desired  I  kept  not  from  them,  I  withheld 
not  my  heart  from  any  joy.  And  behold,  all  was  vanity 
and  vexation  of  spirit,  and  there  was  no  profit  under  the 
sun.' 

So  he  might  have  cried,  so,  indeed,  he  did  cry  in  other  words, 
for,  as  the  painting  of  the  skeletons  and  the  three  monarchs  that 
is  upon  the  north  wall  of  the  aisle  of  Ditchingham  Church 
shows  forth  so  aptly,  kings  have  their  fates  and  happiness  is 
not  to  them  more  than  to  any  other  of  the  sons  of  men. 
Indeed,  it  is  not  at  all,  as  my  benefactor  Fonseca  once  said  to 
me ;  true  happiness  is  but  a  dream  from  which  we  awake  con- 
tinually to  the  sorrows  of  our  short  laborious  day. 

Then  my  thoughts  flew  to  the  vision  of  that  most  lovely 
maid,  the  princess  Otomie,  who,  as  I  believed,  had  looked  on 
me  so  kindly,  and  I  found  that  vision  sweet,  for  I  was  young, 
and  the  English  Lily,  my  own  love,  was  far  away  and  lost  to 
me  for  ever.  Was  it  then  wonderful  that  I  should  find  this 
Indian  poppy  fair  ?  Indeed,  where  is  the  man  who  would  not 
have  been  overcome  by  her  sweetness,  her  beauty,  and  that 
stamp  of  royal  grace  which  comes  with  kingly  blood  and  the 
daily  exercise  of  power  ?  Like  the  rich  wonders  of  the  robe  she 
wore,  her  very  barbarism,  of  which  now  I  saw  but  the  better 
side,  drew  and  dazzled  my  mind's  eye,  giving  her  woman's 
tenderness  some  new  quality,  sombre  and  strange,  an  eastern 
richness  which  is  lacking  in  our  well-schooled  English  women, 


THE  COURT  OF  MONTEZUMA  121 

that  at  one  and  the  same  stroke  touched  both  the  imagination 
and  the  senses,  and  through  them  enthralled  the  heart. 

For  Otomie  seemed  such  a  woman  as  men  dream  of  but  very 
rarely  win,,  seeing  that  the  world  has  few  such  natures  and 
fewer  nurseries  where  they  can  be  reared.  At  once  pure  and 
passionate,  of  royal  blood  and  heart,  rich  natured  and  most 
womanly,  yet  brave  as  a  man  and  beautiful  as  the  night,  with 
?>  mind  athirst  for  knowledge  and  a  spirit  that  no  sorrows 
could  avail  to  quell,  ever  changing  in  her  outer  moods,  and 
yet  most  faithful  and  with  the  honour  of  a  man,  such  was 
Otomie,  Montezuma's  daughter,  princess  of  the  Otomie.  Was 
it  wonderful  then  that  I  found  her  fair,  or,  when  fate  gave  me 
her  love,  that  at  last  I  loved  her  in  turn  ?  And  yet  there  was 
that  in  her  nature  which  should  have  held  me  back  had  I  but 
known  of  it,  for  with  all  her  charm,  her  beauty  and  her  virtues, 
at  heart  she  was  still  a  savage,  and  strive  as  she  would  to  hide 
it,  at  times  her  blood  would  master  her. 

But  as  I  lay  in  the  chamber  of  the  palace  of  Chapoltepec, 
the  tramp  of  the  guards  without  my  door  reminded  me  that  I 
had  little  now  to  do  with  love  and  other  delights,  I  whose  life 
hung  from  day  to  day  upon  a  hair.  To-morrow  the  priests 
would  decide  my  fate,  and  when  the  priests  were  judges,  the 
prisoner  might  know  the  sentence  before  it  was  spoken.  •  I 
was  a  stranger  and  a  white  man,  surely  such  a  one  would  prove 
an  offering  more  acceptable  to  the  gods  than  that  furnished 
by  a  thousand  Indian  hearts.  I  had  been  snatched  from  the 
altars  of  Tobasco  that  I  might  grace  the  higher  altars  of 
Tenoctitlan,  and  that  was  all.  My  fate  would  be  to  perish 
miserably  far  from  my  home,  and  in  this  world  never  to  be 
tieard  of  more. 

Musing  thus  sadly  at  last  I  slept.  When  I  woke  the  sun 
was  up.  Rising  from  my  mat  I  went  to  the  wood-barred 
window  place  and  looked  through.  The  palace  whence  I 
gazed  was  placed  on  the  crest  of  a  rocky  hill.  On  one  side 
this  hill  was  bathed  by  the  blue  waters  of  Tezcuco,  on  the 
other,  a  mile  or  more  away,  rose  the  temple  towers  of  Mexico. 
Along  the  slopes  of  the  hill,  and  in  some  directions  for  a  mile 
from  its  base,  grew  huge  cedar  trees  from  the  boughs  of  which 
bung  a  grey  and  ghostly-looking  moss.  These  trees  are  so 
large  that  the  smallest  of  them  is  bigger  than  the  best  oak 
in  this  parish  of  Ditchingham,  while  the  greatest  measures 
twenty-  two  paces  round  the  base.  Beyond  and  between  these 
marvellous  and  ancient  trees  were  the  gardens  of  Montezuma, 
that  with  their  strange  and  gorgeous  flowers,  their  marble 


122  MONTEZUMA' S  DAUGHTER 

baths,  their  aviaries  and  wild  beast  dens,  were,  as  I  believe,  the 
most  wonderful  in  the  whole  world.1 

'  At  the  least,'  I  thought  to  myself,  '  even  if  I  must  die,  it 
is  something  to  have  seen  this  country  of  Anahuac,  its  king, 
its  customs,  and  its  people.' 


CHAPTEE   XVI 

THOMAS    BECOMES   A    GOD 

LITTLE  did  I,  plain  Thomas  Wingfield,  gentleman,  know, 
when  I  rose  that  morning,  that  before  sunset  I  should  be  a 
god,  and  after  Montezuma  the  Emperor,  the  most  honoured 
man,  or  rather  god,  in  the  city  of  Mexico. 

It  came  about  thus.  When  I  had  breakfasted  with  the 
household  of  the  prince  Guatemoc,  I  was  led  to  the  hall  oJ 
justice,  which  was  named  the  '  tribunal  of  god.'  Here  on  a 
golden  throne  sat  Montezuma,  administering  justice  in  such 
pomp  as  I  cannot  describe.  About  him  were  his  counsellors  anc 
great  lords,  and  before  him  was  placed  a  human  skull  crownec 
with  emeralds  so  large  that  a  blaze  of  light  went  up  from  them 
In  his  hand  also  he  held  an  arrow  for  a  sceptre.  Certain 
chiefs  or  caciques  were  on  their  trial  for  treason,  nor  wero 
they  left  long  in  doubt  as  to  their  fate.  For  when  some  evi- 
dence had  been  heard  they  were  asked  what  they  had  to  say 
in  their  defence.  Each  of  them  told  his  tale  in  few  words  and 
short.  Then  Montezuma,  who  till  now  had  said  and  don>3 
nothing,  took  the  painted  scroll  of  their  indictments  and 
pricked  it  with  the  arrow  in  his  hand  where  the  picture  cf 
each  prisoner  appeared  upon  the  scroll.  Then  they  were  led 
away  to  death,  but  how  they  died  I  do  not  know. 

When  this  trial  was  finished  certain  priests  entered  the 
hall  clothed  in  sable  robes,  their  matted  hair  hanging  down 
their  backs.  They  were  fierce,  wild-eyed  men  of  great  dignity, 
and  I  shivered  when  I  saw  them.  I  noticed  also  that  they 

1  The  gardens  of  Montezuma  have  been  long  destroyed,  but  some 
of  the  cedars  still  nourish  at  Chapoltepec,  though  the  Spaniards  cut 
down  many.  One  of  them,  which  tradition  says  was  a  favourite  troe 
of  the  great  emperor's,  measures  (according  to  a  rough  calculation  the 
author  of  this  book  made  upon  the  spot)  about  sixty  feet  round  tl  ie 
bole.  It  is  strange  to  think  that  a  few  ancient  conifers  should  alone 
survive  of  all  the  glories  of  Montezuma's  wealth  and  state.— AUTHOR, 


V 


THOMAS  BECOMES  A    GOD  123 

alone  made  small  reverence  to  the  majesty  of  Montezuma. 
The  counsellors  and  nobles  having  fallen  back,  these  priests 
entered  into  talk  with  the  emperor,  and  presently  two  of  them 
came  forward  and  taking  me  from  the  custody  of  the  guards, 
led  me  forward  before  the  throne.  Then  of  a  sudden  I  was 
commanded  to  strip  myself  of  my  garments,  and  this  I  did 
with  no  little  shame,  till  I  stood  naked  before  them  all.  Now 
the  priests  came  forward  and  examined  every  part  of  me 
closely.  On  my  arms  were  the  scars  left  by  de  Garcia' s 
sword,  and  on  my  breast  the  scarcely  healed  marks  of  the 
puma's  teeth  and  claws.  These  wounds  they  scanned,  asking 
how  I  had  come  by  them.  I  told  them,  and  thereupon  they 
carried  on  a  discussion  among  themselves,  and  out  of  my 
hearing,  which  grew  so  warm  that  at  length  they  appealed  to 
the  emperor  to  decide  the  point.  He  thought  a  while,  and 
I  heard  him  say  : 

'  The  blemishes  do  not  come  from  within  the  body,  nor 
were  they  upon  it  at  birth,  but  have  been  inflicted  by  the 
violence  of  man  and  beast.' 

Then  the  priests  consulted  together  again,  and  presently 
their  leader  spoke  some  words  into  the  ear  of  Montezuma. 
Ho  nodded,  and  rising  from  his  throne,  came  towards  me 
who  stood  naked  and  shivering  before  him,  for  the  air  of 
Mexico  is  keen.  As  he  advanced  he  loosed  a  chain  of  emeralds 
and  gold  that  hung  about  his  neck,  and  unclasped  the 
royal  cloak  from  his  shoulders.  Then  with  his  own  hand, 
he  put  the  chain  about  my  throat,  and  the  cloak  upon  my 
shoulders,  and  having  humbly  bent  the  knee  before  me  as 
though  in  adoration,  he  cast  his  arms  about  me  and  embraced 
me. 

1  Hail !  most  .  blessed,'  he  said,  '  divine  son  of  Quetzal, 
holder  of  the  spirit  of  Tezcat,  Soul  of  the  World,  Creator  of 
the  World.  What  have  we  done  that  you  should  honour  us 
thus  with  your  presence  for  a  season  ?  What  can  we  do  to 
pay  the  honour  back  ?  You  created  us  and  all  this  country  ; 
behold!  while  you  tarry  with  us,  it  is  yours  and  we  are 
nothing  but  your  servants.  Order  and  your  commands  shall 
be  obeyed,  think  and  your  thought  shall  be  executed  before  it 
can  pass  your  lips.  0  Tezcat,  I,  Montezuma  your  servant, 
offer  you  my  adoration,  and  through  me  the  adoration  of  all 
my  people,'  and  again  he  bowed  the  knee. 

'  We  adore  you,  0  Tezcat !  '  chimed  in  the  priests. 

Now  I  remained  silent  and  bewildered,  for  of  all  this  foolery 
I  could  understand  nothing,  and  while  I  stood  thus  Monte- 


124  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

zuma  clapped  his  hands  and  women  entered  bearing  beautifi  I 
clothing  with  them,  and  a  wreath  of  flowers.  The  clothin  j 
they  put  upon  my  body  and  the  wreath  of  flowers  on  my  hea<  , 
worshipping  me  the  while  and  saying,  *  Tezcat  who  died  yeste  - 
day  is  come  again.  Be  joyful,  Tezcat  has  come  again  in  tl  3 
body  of  the  captive  Teule.' 

Then  I  understood  that  I  was  now  a  god  and  the  greate  t 
of  gods,  though  at  that  moment  within  myself  I  felt  more  of  a 
fool  than  I  had  ever  been  before. 

And  now  men  appeared,  grave  and  reverend  in  appearanc  3, 
bearing  lutes  in  their  hands.  I  was  told  that  these  we:  e 
my  tutors,  and  with  them  a  train  of  royal  pages  who  we  e 
to  be  my  servants.  They  led  me  forth  from  the  hall  makii  g 
music  as  they  went,  and  before  me  marched  a  herald,  callir  g 
out  that  this  was  the  god  Tezcat,  Soul  of  the  World,  Great*  >r 
of  the  World,  who  had  come  again-to  visit  his  people.  Th<  y 
led  me  through  all  the  courts  and  endless  chambers  of  the 
palace,  and  wherever  I  went,  man  woman  and  child  bow<  d 
themselves  to  the  earth  before  me,  and  worshipped  me, 
Thomas  Wingfield  of  Ditchingham,  in  the  county  of  Norfol  is, 
till  I  thought  that  I  must  be  mad. 

.  Then  they  placed  me  in  a  litter  and  carried  me  down  the 
hill  Chapoltepec,  and  along  causeways  and  through  streels, 
till  we  came  to  the  great  square  of  the  temple.  Before  me 
went  heralds  and  priests,  after  me  followed  pages  and  nobk  s, 
and  ever  as  we  passed  the  multitudes  prostrated  themselves 
till  I  began  to  understand  how  wearisome  a  thing  it  is  to  be  a 
god.  Next  they  carried  me  through  the  wall  of  serpents  and 
up  the  winding  paths  of  the  mighty  teocalli  till  we  reached 
the  summit,  where  the  temples  and  idols  stood,  and  here  a 
great  drum  beat,  and  the  priests  sacrificed  victim  after  victim 
in  my  honour  and  I  grew  sick  with  the  sight  of  wickedne  ss 
and  blood.  Presently  they  invited  me  to  descend  from  the 
litter,  laying  rich  carpets  and  flowers  for  my  feet  to  tread  en, 
and  I  was  much  afraid,  for  I  thought  that  they  were  about  to 
sacrifice  me  to  myself  or  some  other  divinity.  But  this  was 
not  so.  They  led  me  to  the  edge  of  the  pyramid,  or  as  near 
as  I  would  go,  for  I  shrank  back  lest  they  should  seize  me 
suddenly  and  cast  me  over  the  edge.  And  there  the  hi  *h 
priest  called  out  my  dignity  to  the  thousands  who  we  re 
assembled  beneath,  and  every  one  of  them  bent  the  knee  in 
adoration  of  me,  the  priests  above  and  the  multitudes  belcw. 
And  so  it  went  on  till  I  grew  dizzy  with  the  worship,  and  the 
shouting,  and  the  sounds  of  music,  and  the  sights  of  deai  h, 

Y 


Next  they  carried  me  up  the  winding  paths  of  the  mighty  Tecailli. 


\ 


THOMAS  BECOMES  A    GOD  125 

and  very  thankful  was  I,  when  at  last  they  carried  me  back  to 
Chapoltepec. 

Here  new  honours  awaited  me,  for  I  was  conducted  to 
a  splendid  range  of  apartments,  next  to  those  of  the  emperor 
himself,  and  I  was  told  that  all  Montezuma's  household  were 
at  my  command  and  that  he  who  refused  to  do  my  bidding 
should  die. 

So  at  last  I  spoke  and  said  it  was  my  bidding  that  I 
should  be  suffered  to  rest  a  while,  till  a  feast  was  prepared 
for  me  in  the  apartments  of  Guatemoc  the  prince,  for  there  I 
hoped  to  meet  Otomie. 

My  tutors  and  the  nobles  who  attended  me  answered  that 
Montezuma  my  servant  had  trusted  that  I  would  feast  with 
him  that  night.  Still  my  command  should  be  done.  Then  they 
left  me,  saying  that  they  would  come  again  in  an  hour  to  lead 
me  to  the  banquet.  N  ow  I  threw  off  the  emblems  of  my  godhead 
and  cast  myself  down  on  cushions  to  rest  and  think,  and  a 
certain  exultation  took  possession  of  me,  for  was  I  not  a  god, 
and  had  I  not  power  almost  absolute  ?  Still  being  of  a 
cautious  mind  I  wondered  why  I  was  a  god,  and  how  long  my 
power  would  last. 

Before  the  hour  had  gone  by,  pages  and  nobles  entered, 
bearing  new  robes  which  were  put  upon  my  body  and  fresh 
flowers  to  crown  my  head,  and  I  was  led  away  to  the  apart- 
ments of  Guatemoc,  fair  women  going  before  me  who  played 
upon  instruments  of  music. 

Here  Guatemoc  the  prince  waited  to  receive  me,  which 
he  did  as  though  I,  his  captive  and  companion,  was  the 
first  of  kings.  And  yet  I  thought  that  I  saw  merriment  in 
his  eye,  mingled  with  sorrow.  Bending  forward  I  spoke  to  him 
in  a  whisper : 

'  What  does  all  this  mean,  prince  ? '  I  said.  '  Am  I  be- 
fooled, or  am  I  indeed  a  god  ?  ' 

1  Hush  ! '  he  answered,  bowing  low  and  speaking  beneath 
his  breath.  '  It  means  both  good  and  ill  for  you,  my  friend 
Teule.  Another  time  I  will  tell  you.'  Then  he  added  aloud, 
'  Does  it  please  you,  0  Tezcat,  god  of  gods,  that  we  should  sit 
at  meat  with  you,  or  will  you  eat  alone  ?  ' 

*  The  gods  like  good  company,  prince,'  I  said. 

Now  during  this  talk  I  had  discovered  that  among  those 
gathered  in  the  hall  was  the  princess  Otomie.  So  when  we 
passed  to  the  low  table  around  which  we  were  to  sit  on 
cushions,  I  hung  back  watching  where  she  would  place  her- 
self, and  then  at  once  seated  myself  beside  her.  This  caused 


126  MONTEZUMA^  S  DAUGHTER 

some  little  confusion  among  the  company,  for  the  place  of 
honour  had  been  prepared  for  me  at  the  head  of  the  table,  the 
seat  of  Guatemoc  being  to  my  right  and  that  of  his  wife,  the 
royal  Tecuichpo,  to  my  left. 

*  Your  seat  is  yonder,  0  Tezcat,'  she  said,  blushing  beneath 
her  olive  skin  as  she  spoke. 

'  Surely  a  god  may  sit  where  he  chooses,  royal  Otomie,'  I 
answered ;  '  besides,'  I  added  in  a  low  voice,  *  what  better 
place  can  he  find  than  by  the  side  of  the  most  lovely  goddess 
on  the  earth.' 

Again  she  blushed  and  answered, '  Alas  !  I  am  no  goddess, 
but  only  a  mortal  maid.  Listen,  if  you  desire  that  I  should 
be  your  companion  at  our  feasts,  you  must  issue  it  as  a 
command  ;  none  will  dare  to  disobey  you,  not  even  Montezuma 
nay  father.' 

So  I  rose  and  said  in  very  halting  Aztec  to  the  nobles  wh( 
•waited  on  me,  '  It  is  my  will  that  my  place  shall  always  be 
set  by  the  side  of  the  princess  Otomie.' 

At  these  words  Otomie  blushed  even  more,  and  a  murmu 
went  round  among  the  guests,  while  Guatemoc  first  looke( 
angry  and  then  laughed.  But  the  nobles,  my  attendants 
bowed,  and  their  spokesman  answered  : 

6  The  words  of  Tezcat  shall  be  obeyed.     Let  the  seat 
Otomie,  the  royal  princess,  the  favoured  of  Tezcat,  be  placet 
by  the  side  of  the  god.' 

Afterwards  this  was  always  done,  except  when  I  ate  wit] 
Montezuma  himself.  Moreover  the  princess  Otomie  becam 
known  throughout  the  city  as  '  the  blessed  princess,  th 
favoured  of  Tezcat.'  For  so  strong  a  hold  had  custom  am 
superstition  upon  this  people  that  they  thought  it  th 
greatest  of  honours  to  her,  who  was  among  the  first  ladie 
in  the  land,  that,  he  who  for  a  little  space  was  supposed  t 
hold  the  spirit  of  -the  soul  of  the  world,  should  deign  to  desir 
her  companionship  when  he  ate.  Now  the  feast  went  on,  an 
presently  I  made  shift  to  ask  Otomie  what  all  this  migh 
mean. 

'  Alas  !  '  she  whispered,  '  you  do  not  know,  nor  dare  I  te 
you  now.  But  I  will  say  this :  though  you  who  are  a  go 
may  sit  where  you  will  to-day,  an  hour  shall  come  whe 
you  must  lie  where  you  would  not.  Listen :  when  we  hav 
finished  eating,  say  that  it  is  your  wish  to  walk  in  th 
gardens  of  the  palace  and  that  I  should  accompany  you 
Then  I  may  find  a  chance  to  speak.' 

Accordingly,  when  the  feast  was  over  I  said  that  I  desire< 

V 


THOMAS  BECOMES  A   GOD  127 

to  walk  in  the  gardens  with  the  princess  Otomie,  and  we  went 
out  and  wandered  under  the  solemn  trees,  that  are  draped  in 
a  winding-sheet  of  grey  moss  which,  hanging  from  every 
bough  as  though  the  forest  had  been  decked  with  the  white 
beards  of  an  army  of  aged  men,  waved  and  rustled  sadly  in 
the  keen  night  air.  But  alas !  we  might  not  be  alone,  for 
after  us  at  a  distance  of  twenty  paces  followed  all  my  crowd  of 
attendant  nobles,  together  with  fair  dancing  girls  and  min- 
strels armed  with  their  accursed  flutes,  on  which  they  blew  in 
season  and  out  of  it,  dancing  as  they  blew.  In  vain  did  I 
command  them  to  be  silent,  telling  them  that  it  wus  written 
of  old  that  there  is  a  time  to  play  and  dance  and  a  time  to 
cease  from  dancing,  for  in  this  alone  they  would  not  obey 
me.  Never  could  I  be  at  peace  because  of  them  then  or 
thereafter,  and  not  till  now  did  I  learn  how  great  a  treasure 
is  solitude. 

Still  we  were  allowed  to  walk  together  under  the  trees,  and 
though  the  clamour  of  music  pursued  us  wherevi  r  \\c  went, 
we  were  soon  deep  in  talk.  Then  it  was  that  I  learned  how 
dreadful  was  the  fate  which  overshadowed  me. 

'  Know,  0  Teule,'  said  Otomie,  for  she  would  call  me  by 
the  old  name  when  there  were  none  to  hear  ;  '  this  is  the 
custom  of  our  land,  that  every  year  a  young  captive  should  be 
chosen  to  be  the  earthly  image  of  the  god  Tezcat,  who  created 
the  world.  Only  two  things  are  necessary  to  this  captive, 
namely,  that  his  blood  should  be  noble,  and  that  his  person 
should  be  beautiful  and  without  flaw  or  blemish.  The  day 
that  you  came  hither,  Teule,  chanced  to  be  the  day  of  choosing 
a  new  captive  to  personate  the  god,  and  you  have  been 
chosen  because  you  are  both  noble  and  more  beautiful  than 
any  man  in  Anahuac,  and  also  because  being  of  the  people  of 
the  Teules,  the  children  of  Quetzal  of  whom  so  many  rumours 
have  reached  us,  and  whose  coming  my  father  Montezuma 
dreads  more  than  anything  in  the  world,  it  was  thought  by 
the  priests  that  you  may  avert  their  anger  from  us,  and  the 
anger  of  the  gods. 

Now  Otomie  paused  as  one  who  has  something  to  say  that 
she  can  scarcely  find  words  to  fit,  but  I,  remembering  only 
what  had  been  said,  swelled  inwardly  with  the  sense  of  my  own 
greatness,  and  because  this  lovely  princess  had  declared  that 
I  was  the  most  beautiful  man  in  Anahuac,  I  who  though  I 
was  well-looking  enough,  had  never  before  been  called 
'  beautiful '  by  man,  woman,  or  child.  But  in  this  case  as  in 
many  another,  pride  went  before  a  fall 


128  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 


'  It  must  be  spoken,  Teule,'  Otomie  continued.  '  Alas  !  tha 
it  should  be  I  who  am  fated  to  tell  you.  For  a  year  you  wil 
rule  as  a  god  in  this  city  of  Tenoctitlan,  and  except  for  certaii 
ceremonies  that  you  must  undergo,  and  certain  arts  which  yoi 
must  learn,  none  will  trouble  you.  Your  slightest  wish  wil 
be  a  law,  and  when  you  smile  on  any,  it  shall  be  an  omen  o 
good  to  them  and  they  will  bless  you  ;  even  my  father  Monte 
zuma  will  treat  you  with  reverence  as  an  equal  or  more 
Every  delight  shall  be  yours  except  that  of  marriage,  an<. 
this  will  be  withheld  till  the  twelfth  month  of  the  year.  The]  i 
the  four  most  beautiful  maidens  in  the  land  will  be  given  t<  > 
you  as  brides.' 

*  And  who  will  choose  them  ?  '  I  asked. 

'Nay,  I  know  not,  Teule,  who  do  not  meddle  in  such 
mysteries,'  she  answered  hurriedly.  'Sometimes  the  god  i^ 
judge  and  sometimes  the  priests  judge  for  him.  It  is  as  is 
may  chance.  Listen  now  to  the  end  of  my  tale  and  you  will 
surely  forget  the  rest.  For  one  month  you  will  live  with 
your  wives,  and  this  month  you  will  pass  in  feasting  at  all 
the  noblest  houses  in  the  city.  On  the  last  day  of  the  month , 
however,  you  will  be  placed  in  a  royal  barge  and  together 
with  your  wives,  paddled  across  the  lake  to  a  place  that  h 
named  "  Melting  of  Metals."  Thence  you  will  be  led  to  thi 
teocalli  named  "  House  of  Weapons,"  where  your  wives  will 
bid  farewell  to  you  for  ever,  and  there,  Teule,  alas !  that  E 
must  say  it,  you  are  doomed  to  be  offered  as  a  sacrifice  to 
the  god  whose  spirit  you  hold,  the  great  god  Tezcat,  for 
your  heart  will  be  torn  from  your  body,  and  your  head  will 
be  struck  from  your  shoulders  and  set  upon  the  stake  that 
is  known  as  "  post  of  heads."  ' 

Now  when  I  heard  this  dreadful  doom  I  groaned  aloud  and 
my  knees  trembled  so  that  I  almost  fell  to  the  ground.  The:i 
a  great  fury  seized  me  and,  forgetting  my  father's  counse"., 
I  blasphemed  the  gods  of  that  country  and  the  people  who 
worshipped  them,  first  in  the  Aztec  and  Maya  languages, 
then  when  my  knowledge  of  these  tongues  failed  me,  i:.i 
Spanish  and  good  English.  But  Otomie,  who  heard  some  of 
my  words  and  guessed  more,  was  seized  with  fear  and  liftel 
her  hands,  saying : 

'  Curse  not  the  awful  gods,  I  beseech  you,  lest  some 
terrible  thing  befall  you  at  once.  If  you  are  overheard  it  wi  1 
be  thought  that  you  have  an  evil  spirit  and  not  a  good  on*;, 
and  then  you  must  die  now  and  by  torment.  At  the  least 
the  gods,  who  are  everywhere,  will  hear  you.' 


THOMAS  BECOMES  A    GOD  129 

'Let  them  hear,'  I  answered.  *  They  are  false  gods  and 
that  country  is  accursed  which  worships  them.  They  are 
doomed  I  say,  and  all  their  worshippers  are  doomed.  Nay,  I 
care  not  if  I  am  heard— as  well  die  now  by  torment  as  live 
a  year  in  the  torment  of  approaching  death,  But  1  shall  not 
die  alone,  all  the  sea  of  blood  that  your  priests  have  shed 
cries  out  for  vengeance  to  the  true  God,  and  He  will  avenge.' 

Thus  I  raved  on,  being  mad  with  fear  and  impotent  anger, 
while  the  princess  Otomie  stood  terrified  and  amazed  at  my 
blasphemies,  and  the  flutes  piped  and  the  dancers  danced 
behind  us.  And  as  I  raved  I  saw  that  the  mind  of  Otomie 
wandered  from  my  words,  for  she  was  staring  towards  the 
east  like  one  who  sees  a  vision.  Then  I  looked  also  towards 
the  east  and  saw  that  the  sky  was  alight  there.  For  from 
the  edge  of  the  horizon  to  the  highest  parts  of  heaven  spread 
a  fan  of  pale  and  fearful  light  powdered  over  with  sparks  of 
fire,  the  handle  of  the  fan  resting  on  the  mrtli  as  it  were, 
while  its  wings  covered  the  eastern  sky.  Now  I  ceased  my 
cursing  and  stood  transfixed,  and  as  I  stood,  a  cry  of  terror 
arose  from  all  the  precincts  of  the  palace  and  people  poured 
from  every  door  to  gaze  upon  the  portent  that  flared  and 
bla/.ed  in  the  east.  Presently  Montc/unia  himself  came  out, 
attended  by  his  great  lords,  and  in  that  ghastly  light  1  saw 
that  his  lips  worked  and  his  hands  writhed  over  each  other. 
Nor  was  the  miracle  done  with,  for  anon  from  the  clear 
sky  that  hung  over  the  city,  descended  a  ball  of  fire,  which 
seemed  to  rest  upon  the  points  of  the  lofty  temple  in  the 
great  square,  lighting  up  the  teocalli  as  with  the  glare  of  day. 
It  vanished,  but  where  it  had  been  another  light  now  burned, 
for  the  temple  of  Quetzal  was  afire. 

Now  cries  of  fear  and  lamentation  arose  from  all  who 
beheld  these  wonders  on  the  hill  of  Chapoltepec  and  also  from 
the  city  below.  Even  I  was  frightened,  I  do  not  know  why, 
for  it  may  well  be  that  the  blaze  of  light  which  we  saw  on 
that  and  after  nights  was  nothing  but  the  brightness  of  a 
comet,  and  that  the  fire  in  the  temple  was  caused  by  a  thunder- 
bolt. But  to  these  people,  and  more  especially  to  Montezuma, 
whose  mind  was  filled  already  with  rumours  of  the  coming 
of  a  strange  white  race,  which,  as  it  was  truly  prophesied, 
would  bring  his  empire  to  nothingness,  the  omens  seemed 
very  evil.  Indeed,  if  they  had  any  doubt  as  to  their  meaning, 
it  was  soon  to  be  dispelled,  in  their  minds  at  least.  For  as 
we  stood  wonder-struck,  a  messenger,  panting  and  soiled  with 
travel,  arrived  among  us  and  prostrating  himself  before  the 

K 


130  MONTEZUMA' S  DAUGHTER 

majesty  of  the  emperor,  he  drew  a  painted  scroll  from  hi; 
robe  and  handed  it  to  an  attendant  noble.  So  desirous  wat 
Montezuma  to  know  its  contents,  that  contrary  to  all  custon 
be  snatched  the  roll  from  the  hands  of  the  counsellor,  anc 
unrolling  it,  he  began  to  read  the  picture  writing  by  the  balefu 
light  of  the  blazing  sky  and  temple.  Presently,  as  we  watchec 
and  he  read,  Montezuma  groaned  aloud,  and  casting  down  th< 
writing  he  covered  his  face  with  his  hands.  As  it  chanced  i 
fell  near  to  where  I  stood,  and  I  saw  painted  over  it  rude 
pictures  of  ships  of  the  Spanish  rig,  and  of  men  in  the  Spanisl 
armour.  Then  I  understood  why  Montezuma  groaned.  Th< ; 
Spaniards  had  landed  on  his  shores ! 

Now  some  of  his  counsellors  approached  him  to  consol  j 
him,  but  he  thrust  them  aside,  saying  : 

'  Let  me  mourn— the  doom  that  was  foretold  is  fallen  upoi  i 
the  children  of  Anahuac.  The  children  of  Quetzal  muster  o]  i 
our  shores  and  slay  my  people.  Let  me  mourn,  I  say.' 

At  that  moment  another  messenger  came  from  the  palac* , 
having  grief  written  on  his  face. 

'  Speak,'  said  Montezuma. 

'  0  king,  forgive  the  tongue  that  must  tell  such  tidings . 
Your  royal  sister  Papantzin  was  seized  with  terror  at  yonder 
dreadful  sight,'  and  he  pointed  to  the  heavens;  'she  lies 
dying  in  the  palace  ! ' 

Now  when  the  emperor  heard  that  his  sister  whom  he 
loved  was  dying,  he  said  nothing,  but  covering  his  face  with 
his  royal  mantle,  he  passed  slowly  back  to  the  palace. 

And  all  the  while  the  crimson  light  gleamed  and  sparkled 
in  the  east  like  some  monstrous  and  unnatural  dawn,  while  the 
temple  of  Quetzal  burned  fiercely  in  the  city  beneath. 

Now  I  turned  to  the  princess  Otomie,  who  had  stood  by 
my  side  throughout,  overcome  with  wonder  and  trembling. 

*  Did  I  not  say  that  this  country  was  accursed,  princess  of 
the  Otomie  ?  ' 

'  You  said  it,  Teule,'  she  answered,  *  and  it  is  accursed.' 

Then  we  went  into  the  palace,  and  even  in  this  hour  of 
fear,  after  me  came  the  minstrels  as  before. 


THE  ARISING  OF  PAPANTZIN  131 

CHAPTER  XVII 

THE    AEISING    OP   PAPANTZIN 

ON  the  morrow  Papantzin  died,  and  was  buried  with  great 
pomp  that  same  evening  in  the  burial-ground  at  Chapol tepee, 
by  the  side  of  the  emperor's  royal  ancestors.  But,  as  will  bo 
seen,  she  was  not  content  with  their  company.  On  that  day 
also,  I  learned  that  to  be  a  god  is  not  all  pleasure,  since  it 
was  expected  of  me  that  I  must  master  various  arts,  and 
chiefly  the  horrid  art  of  music,  to  which  I  never  had  any 
desire.  Still  my  own  wishes  were  not  allowed  to  weigh  in  the 
matter,  for  there  came  to  me  tutors,  aged  men  who  might 
have  found  better  employment,  to  instruct  me  in  the  use  of 
the  lute,  and  on  this  instrument  I  must  learn  to  strum. 
Others  there  were  also,  who  taught  me  letters,  poetry,  and  art, 
as  they  were  understood  among  the  Aztecs,  and  all  this 
knowledge  I  was  glad  of.  Still  I  remembered  the  words  of 
the  preacher  which  tell  us  that  he  who  increaseth  knowledge 
increaseth  sorrow,  and  moreover  I  could  see  little  use  in 
acquiring  learning  that  was  to  be  lost  shortly  on  the  stone  of 
sacrifice. 

As  to  this  matter  of  my  sacrifice  I  was  at  first  desperate. 
But  reflection  told  me  that  I  had  already  passed  many 
dangers  and  come  out  unscathed,  and  therefore  it  was  possible 
that  I  might  escape  this  one  also.  At  least  death  was  still  a 
long  way  off,  and  for  the  present  I  was  a  god.  So  I  deter- 
mined that  whether  I  died  or  lived,  while  I  lived  I  would  live 
like  a  god  and  take  such  pleasures  as  came  to  my  hand,  and 
I  acted  on  this  resolve.  No  man  ever  had  greater  or  more 
strange  opportunities,  and  no  man  can  have  used  them  better. 
Indeed,  had  it  not  been  for  the  sorrowful  thoughts  of  my  lost 
love  and  home  which  would  force  themselves  upon  me,  I 
should  have  been  almost  happy,  because  of  the  power  that  I 
wielded  and  the  strangeness  of  all  around  me.  But  I  must 
to  my  tale. 

During  the  days  that  followed  the  death  of  Papantzin  the 
palace  and  the  city  also  were  plunged  in  ferment.  The 
minds  of  men  were  shaken  strangely  because  of  the  rumours 
that  filled  the  air.  Every  night  the  fiery  portent  blazed  in 
the  east,  every  day  a  new  wonder  or  omen  was  reported, 
and  with  it  some  wild  tale  of  the  doings  of  the  Spaniards,  who 

K2 


132  MONTEZUMAJS  DAUGHTER 

by  most  were  held  to  be  white  gods,  the  children  of  Quetzal, 
come  back  to  take  the  land  which  their  forefather  ruled. 

But  of  all  that  were  troubled,  none  were  in  such  bad  cas< 
as  the  emperor  himself,  who,  during  these  weeks  scarcely  ate  Q] 
drank  or  slept,  so  heavy  were  his  fears  upon  him.     In  thii 
strait  he  sent  messengers  to  his  ancient  rival,  that  wise  am 
severe  man  Neza,  the  king  of  the  allied  state  of  Tezcuco, 
begging  that  he  would  visit  him.     This  king  came,  an  olr. 
man  with  a  fierce  and  gleaming  eye,  and  I  was  witness  to  th  > 
interview  that  followed,  for  in  my  quality  of  god  I  had  ful  L 
liberty  of  the  palace,  and  even  to  be  present  at  the  councils  c  f 
the  emperor  and  his  nobles.     When  the  two  monarchs  ha*  I 
feasted  together,  Montezuma  spoke  to  Neza  of  the  matter  c  f 
the  omens  and  of  the  coming  of  the  Teules,  asking  him  t ) 
lighten  the  darkness  by  his  wisdom.     Then  Neza  pulled  hi  3 
long  grey  beard  and  answered  that  heavy  as  the  heart  cf 
Montezuma  might  be,  it  must  grow  still  heavier  before  the  en( . 

'  See,  Lord,'  he  said,  'I  am  so  sure  that  the  days  of  our 
empire  are  numbered,  that  I  will  play  you  at  dice  for  my  kin^  - 
doms  which  you  and  your  forefathers  have  ever  desired  to  win.' 

1  For  what  wager  ?  '  asked  Montezuma. 

'  I  will  play  you  thus,'  answered  Neza.  'You  shall  stale 
three  fighting  cocks,  of  which,  should  I  win,  I  ask  the  spurs 
only.  I  set  against  them  all  the  wide  empire  of  Tezcuco.' 

'  A  small  stake,'  said  Montezuma  ;  '  cocks  are  many  and 
kingdoms  few.' 

'  Still,  it  shall  serve  our  turn,'  answered  the  aged  king,  '  for 
know  that  we  play  against  fate.  As  the  game  goes,  so  shall 
the  issue  be.  If  you  win  my  kingdoms  all  is  well ;  if  I  win 
the  cocks,  then  good-bye  to  the  glory  of  Anahuac,  for  bs 
people  will  cease  to  be  a  people,  and  strangers  shall  possess 
the  land.' 

'  Let  us  play  and  see,'  said  Montezuma,  and  they  went 
down  to  the  place  that  is  called  tlachco,  where  the  games  are 
set.  Here  they  began  the  match  with  dice  and  at  first  all 
went  well  for  Montezuma,  so  that  he  called  aloud  that  already 
he  was  lord  of  Tezcuco. 

'  May  it  be  so  ! '  answered  the  aged  Neza,  and  from  that 
moment  the  chance  changed,  For  strive  as  he  would,  Monte- 
zuma could  not  win  another  point,  and  presently  the  set  was 
finished,  and  Neza  had  won  the  cocks.  Now  the  music  played, 
and  courtiers  came  forward  to  give  the  king  homage  on  his 
success.  But  he  rose  sighing,  and  said : 

'  I  had  far  sooner  lose  my  kingdoms  than  have  won  these 


THE  ARISING   OF  PAPANTZIN  133 

fowls,  for  if  I  had  lost  my  kingdoms  they  would  still  have 
passed  into  the  hands  of  one  of  my  own  race.  Now  alas  !  my 
possessions  and  his  must  come  under  the  hand  of  strangers, 
who  shall  cast  down  our  gods  and  bring  our  names  to  nothing.' 

And  having  spoken  thus,  he  rose,  and  taking  farewell  of 
the  emperor,  he  departed  for  his  own  land,  where,  as  it 
chanced,  he  died  very  shortly,  without  living  to  see  the  ful- 
filment of  his  fears. 

On  the  morrow  of  his  departure  came  further  accounts  of 
the  doings  of  the  Spaniards  that  plunged  Montezuma  into 
still  greater  alarm.  In  his  terror  he  sent  for  an  astronomer, 
noted  throughout  the  land  for  the  truth  of  his  divinations. 
The  astronomer  came,  and  was  received  by  the  emperor 
privately.  What  he  told  him  I  do  not  know,  but  at  least  it 
was  nothing  pleasant,  for  that  very  night  men  were  com^ 
manded  to  pull  down  the  house  of  this  sage,  who  was  buried 
in  its  ruins. 

Two  days  after  the  death  of  the  astronomer,  Montezuma 
bethought  him  that,  as  he  believed,  I  also  was  a  Teule,  and 
could  give  him  information.  So  at  the  hour  of  sunset  he  sent 
for  me,  bidding  me  walk  with  him  in  the  gardens.  I  went 
thither,  followed  by  my  musicians  and  attendants,  who  would 
never  leave  me  in  peace,  but  he  commanded  that  all  should 
stand  aside,  as  he  wished  to  speak  with  me  alone.  Then  he 
began  to  walk  beneath  the  mighty  cedar  trees,  and  I  with  him, 
but  keeping  one  pace  behind. 

1  Teule,'  he  said  at  length, '  tell  me  of  your  countrymen,  and 
why  they  have  come  to  these  shores.  See  that  you  speak  truth.' 

'  They  are  no  countrymen  of  mine,  0  Montezuma,'  I 
answered,  '  though  my  mother  was  one  of  them.' 

'  Did  I  not  bid  you  speak  the  truth,  Teule  ?  If  your 
mother  was  one  of  them,  must  you  not  also  be  of  them  ;  for 
are  you  not  of  your  mother's  bone  and  blood  ?  ' 

'  As  the  king  pleases,'  I  anwered  bowing.  Then  I  began 
and  told  him  of  the  Spaniards — of  their  country,  their  great- 
ness, their  cruelty  and  their  greed  of  gold,  and  he  listened 
eagerly,  though  I  think  that  he  believed  little  of  what  I  said, 
for  his  fear  had  made  him  very  suspicious.  When  I  had  done, 
he  spoke  and  said  : 

1  Why  do  they  come  here  to  Anahuac  ?  ' 

'  I  fear,  0  king,  that  they  come  to  take  the  land,  or  at  the 
least  to  rob  it  of  all  its  treasure,  and  to  destroy  its  faiths.' 

'  What  then  is  your  counsel,  Teule  ?  How  can  I  defend 
myself  against  these  mighty  men,  who  are  clothed  in  metal, 


J34  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

and  ride  upon  fierce  wild  beasts,  who  have  instruments  thai 
make  a  noise  like  thunder,  at  the  sound  of  which  their  adver- 
saries fall  dead  by  hundreds,  and  who  bear  weapons  of  shining 
silver  in  their  hands  ?  Alas  !  there  is  no  defence  possible,  foi 
they  are  the  children  of  Quetzal  come  back  to  take  the  land, 
From  my  childhood  I  have  known  that  this  evil  overshadowed 
me,  and  now  it  is  at  my  door.' 

'  If  I,  who  am  only  a  god,  may  venture  to  speak  to  the 
lord  of  the  earth,'  I  answered,  '  I  say  that  the  reply  is  easy 
Meet  force  by  force.  The  Teules  are  few  and  you  can  mustei 
a  thousand  soldiers  for  every  one  of  theirs.  Fall  on  them  al 
once,  do  not  hesitate  till  their  prowess  finds  them  friends,  bul 
crush  them.' 

'  Such  is  the  counsel  of  one  whose  mother  was  a  Teule; 
the  emperor  answered,  with  sarcasm  and  bitter  meaning 
'  Tell  me  now,  counsellor,  how  am  I  to  know  that  in  fighting 
against  them  I  shall  not  be  fighting  against  the  gods  ;  how  ever 
am  I  to  learn  the  true  wishes  and  purposes  of  men  or  gods  wh( 
cannot  speak  my  tongue  and  whose  tongue  I  cannot  speak  ?  ' 

*  It  is  easy,  0  Montezuma,'  I  answered.   *  I  can  speak  their 
tongue  ;  send  me  to  discover  for  you.' 

Now  as  I  spoke  thus  my  heart  bounded  with  hope,  for  i ' 
once  I  could  come  among  the  Spaniards,  perhaps  I  migh '. 
escape  the  altar  of  sacrifice.  Also  they  seemed  a  link  between 
me  and  home.  They  had  sailed  hither  in  ships,  and  ships  can 
retrace  their  path.  For  though  at  present  my  lot  was  not  all 
sorrow,  it  will  be  guessed  that  I  should  have  been  glad  indeed 
to  find  myself  once  more  among  Christian  men. 

Montezuma  looked  at  me  a  while  and  answered : 

*  You  must  think  me  very  foolish,  Teule.     What !    shall 
I  send  you  to  tell  my  fears  and  weakness  to  your  countrymen, 
and  to  show  them  the  joints  in  my  harness  ?     Do  you  then 
suppose  that  I  do  not  know  you  for  a  spy  sent  to  this  land  by 
these  same  Teules  to  gather  knowledge  of  the  land  ?     Fool,  I 
knew  it  from  the  first,  and  by  Huitzel !  were  you  not  vowed 
to  Tezcat,  your  heart  should  smoke  to-morrow  on  the  altar  of 
Huitzel.     Be  warned,  and  give  me  no  more  false  counsels  lest 
your  end  prove  swifter  than  you  think.   Learn  that  I  have  asked 
these  questions  of  you  to  a  purpose,  and  by  the  command  of 
the  gods,  as  it  was  written  on  the  hearts  of  those  sacrificed  this 
day.     This  was  the  purpose  and  this  was  the  command,  that 
I  might  discover  your  secret  mind,  and  that  I  should  shun  what- 
ever advice  you  chanced  to  give.     You  counsel  me  to  fight  th^ 
Teules,  therefore  I  will  not  fight  them,  but  meet  them  witJ  i 


THE  ARISING   OF  PAPANTZIN  135 

gifts  and  fair  words,  for  I  know  well  that  you  would  have  me 
to  do  that  which  should  bring  me  to  my  doom.' 

Thus  he  spoke  very  fiercely  and  in  a  low  voice,  his  head 
held  low  and  his  arms  crossed  upon  his  breast,  and  I  saw  that 
he  shook  with  passion.  Even  then,  though  I  was  very  much 
afraid,  for  god  as  I  was,  a  nod  from  this  mighty  king  would 
have  sent  me  to  death  by  torment,  I  wondered  at  the  folly  of 
one  who  in  everything  else  was  so  wise.  Why  should  he 
doubt  me  thus  and  allow  superstition  to  drag  him  down  to 
ruin  ?  To-day  I  see  the  answer.  Montezuma  did  not  these 
things  of  himself,  but  because  the  hand  of  destiny  worked 
with  his  hand,  and  the  voice  of  destiny  spoke  in  his  voice. 
The  gods  of  the  Aztecs  were  false  gods  indeed,  but  I  for  one 
believe  that  they  had  life  and  intelligence,  for  those  hideous 
shapes  of  stone  were  the  habitations  of  devils,  and  the  priests 
spoke  truth  when  they  said  that  the  sacrifice  of  men  was 
pleasing  to  their  gods. 

To  these  devils  the  king  went  for  counsel  through  the 
priests,  and  now  this  doom  was  on  them,  that  they  must  give 
false  counsel  to  their  own  destruction,  and  to  the  destruction 
of  those  who  worshipped  them,  as  was  decreed  by  One  more 
powerful  than  they. 

Now  while  we  were  talking  the  sun  had  sunk  swiftly, 
so  that  all  the  world  was  dark.  But  the  light  still  lingered 
on  the  snowy  crests  of  the  volcanoes  Popo  and  Ixtac,  staining 
them  an  awful  red.  Never  before  to  my  sight  had  the  shape 
of  the  dead  woman  whose  everlasting  bier  is  Ixtac's  bulk, 
seemed  so  clear  and  wonderful  as  on  that  night,  for  either  it 
was  so  or  my  fancy  gave  it  the  very  shape  and  colour  of  a 
woman's  corse  steeped  in  blood  and  laid  out  for  burial.  Nor 
was  it  my  phantasy  alone,  for  when  Montezuma  had  finished 
upbraiding  me  he  chanced  to  look  up,  and  his  eyes  falling  on 
the  mountain  remained  fixed  there. 

'  Look  now,  Teule  !  '  he  said,  presently,  with  a  solemn 
laugh  ;  '  yonder  lies  the  corse  of  the  nations  of  Anahuao 
washed  in  a  water  of  blood  and  made  ready  for  burial.  Is 
she  not  terrible  in  death  ?  ' 

As  he  spoke  the  words  and  turned  to  go,  a  sound  of  doleful 
wailing  came  from  the  direction  of  the  mountain,  a  very  wild 
and  unearthly  sound  that  caused  the  blood  in  my  veins  to 
stand  still.  Now  Montezuma  caught  my  arm  in  his  fear,  and 
we  gazed  together  on  Ixtac,  and  it  seemed  to  us  that  this 
wonder  happened.  For  in  that  red  and  fearful  light  the  red 


136  MONTEZUMA' S  DAUGHTER 

figure  of  the  sleeping  woman  arose,  or  appeared  to  rise,  from 
its  bier  of  stone.  It  arose  slowly  like  one  who  awakes  from 
sleep,  and  presently  it  stood  upright  upon  the  mountain's 
brow,  towering  high  into  the  air.  There  it  stood  a  giant  anc 
awakened  corpse,  its  white  wrappings  stained  with  blood,  and 
we  trembled  to  see  it. 

For  awhile  the  wraith  remained  thus  gazing  towards  the  citj 
of  Tenoctitlan,  then  suddenly  it  threw  its  vast  arms  upward  at 
though  in  grief,  and  at  that  moment  the  night  rushed  in  upor 
it  and  covered  it,  while  the  sound  of  wailing  died  slowly  away 

'  Say,  Teule,'  gasped  the  emperor,  *  do  I  not  well  to  be 
afraid  when  such  portents  as  these  meet  my  eyes  day  by  day ' 
Hearken  to  the  lamentations  in  the  city  ;  wre  have  not  seen  this 
sight  alone.  Listen  how  the  people  cry  aloud  with  fear  anc 
the  priests  beat  their  drums  to  avert  the  omen.  Weep  on,  yt 
people,  and  ye  priests  pray  and  do  sacrifice  ;  it  is  very  fitting 
for  the  day  of  your  doom  is  upon  you.  0  Tenoctitlan,  queer 
of  cities,  I  see  you  ruined  and  desolate,  your  palaces  blackenec 
with  fire,  your  temples  desecrated,  your  pleasant  gardens  8 
wilderness.  I  see  your  highborn  women  the  wantons  ol 
stranger  lords,  and  your  princes  their  servants ;  the  canale 
run  red  with  the  blood  of  your  children,  your  gateways  are 
blocked  with  their  bones.  Death  is  about  you  everywhere,  dis- 
honour is  your  daily  bread,  desolation  is  your  portion.  Fare- 
well to  you,  queen  of  the  cities,  cradle  of  my  forefathers  ir 
which  I  was  nursed  ! ' 

Thus  Montezuma  lamented  in  the  darkness,  and  as  he  criec. 
aloud  the  great  moon  rose  over  the  edge  of  the  world  anc. 
poured  its  level  light  through  the  boughs  of  the  cedars  clothec 
in  their  ghostly  robe  of  moss.  It  struck  upon  MontezumaVs 
tall  shape,  on  his  distraught  countenance  and  thin  hands  as; 
he  waved  them  to  and  fro  in  his  prophetic  agony,  on  my  glit- 
tering garments,  and  the  terror-stricken  band  of  courtiers,  and 
the  musicians  who  had  ceased  from  their  music.  A  little  wind 
sprang  up  also,  moaning  sadly  in  the  mighty  trees  above  and 
against  the  rocks  of  Chapoltepec.  Never  did  I  witness  a  scene 
more  strange  or  more  pregnant  with  mystery  and  the  promise 
of  unborn  horror,  than  that  of  this  great  monarch  mourning  over 
the  downfall  of  his  race  and  power.  As  yet  no  misfortune  had 
befallen  the  one  or  the  other,  and  still  he  knew  that  both  were 
doomed,  and  these  words  of  lamentation  burst  from  a  heart 
broken  by  a  grief  of  which  the  shadow  only  lay  upon  it. 

But  the  wonders  of  that  night  were  not  yet  done  with. 

When  Montezuma  had  made  an  end  of  crying  his  prophe- 


THE  ARISING   OF  PAPANTZJN  137 

cies,  I  asked  him  humbly  if  I  should  summon  to  him  the  lords 
who  were  in  attendance  on  him,  but  who  stood  at  some  distance. 

1  Nay,'  he  answered,  *  I  will  not  have  them  see  me  thus 
with  grief  and  terror  upon  my  face.  Whoever  fears,  at  least 
I  must  seem  brave.  Walk  with  me  a  while,  Teule,  and  if  it 
is  in  your  mind  to  murder  me  I  shall  not  grieve.' 

I  made  no  answer,  but  followed  him  as  he  led  the  way  down 
the  darkest  of  the  winding  paths  that  run  between  the  cedar 
trees,  where  it  would  have  been  easy  for  me  to  kill  him  if  I 
wished,  but  I  could  not  see  how  I  should  be  advantaged  by  the 
deed  ;  also  though  I  knew  that  Montezuma  was  my  enemy,  my 
heart  shrank  from  the  thought  of  murder.  For  a  mile  or  more 
he  walked  on  without  speaking,  now  beneath  the  shadow  of  the 
trees,  and  now  through  open  spaces  of  garden  planted  with 
lovely  flowers,  till  at  last  we  came  to  the  gates  of  the  place 
where  the  royal  dead  are  laid  to  rest.  Now  in  front  of  these 
gates  was  an  open  space  of  turf  on  which  the  moonlight  shone 
brightly,  and  in  the  centre  of  this  space  lay  something  white, 
shaped  like  a  woman.  Here  Montezuma  halted  and  looked  at 
the  gates,  then  said : 

'  These  gates  opened  four  days  since  for  Papantzin,  my 
sister ;  how  long,  I  wonder,  will  pass  before  they  open  for  me  ?  ' 

As  he  spoke,  the  white  shape  upon  the  grass  which  I  had 
seen  and  he  had  not  seen,  stirred  like  an  awakening  sleeper. 
As  the  snow  shape  upon  the  mountain  had  stirred,  so  this 
shape  stirred  ;  as  it  had  arisen,  so  this  one  arose ;  as  it  threw 
its  arms  upwards,  so  this  one  threw  up  her  arms.  Now  Moute- 
zuma  saw  and  stood  still  trembling,  and  I  trembled  also. 

Then  the  woman — for  it  was  a  woman — advanced  slowly  to- 
wards us,  and  as  she  came  we  saw  that  she  was  draped  in  grave- 
clothes.  Presently  she  lifted  her  head  and  the  moonlight  fell 
full  upon  her  face.  Now  Montezuma  groaned  aloud  and  I 
groaned,  for  we  saw  that  the  face  was  the  thin  pale  face 
of  the  princess  Papantzin — Papantzin  who  had  lain  four  days 
in  the  grave.  On  she  came  toward  us,  gliding  like  one  who 
walks  in  her  sleep,  till  she  stopped  before  the  bush  in  the 
shadow  of  which  we  stood.  Now  Papantzin,  or  the  ghost  of 
Papantzin,  looked  at  us  with  blind  eyes,  that  is  with  eyes  that 
were  open  and  yet  did  not  seem  to  see. 

'  Are  you  there,  Montezuma,  my  brother  ?  '  she  said  in  the 
voice  of  Papantzin  ;  '  surely  I  feel  your  presence  though  I  can- 
not see  you.' 

Now  Montezuma  stepped  from  the  shadow  and  stood  face 
to  face  with  the  dead. 


138  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

I  Who  are  you  ?  '  he  said,  *  who  wear  the  shape  of  one  dead 
and  are  dressed  in  the  garments  of  the  dead  ?  ' 

4 1  am  Papantzin,'  she  answered,  '  and  I  am  risen  out  of 
death  to  bring  you  a  message,  Montezuma,  my  brother.' 
'  What  message  do  you  bring  me  ?  '  he  asked  hoarsely. 

I 1  bring  you  a  message  of  doom,  my  brother.  Your  empire 
shall  fall  and  soon  you  shall  be  accompanied  to  death  by  tens 
of  thousands  of  your  people.  For  four  days  I  have  lived  among 
the  dead,  and  there  I  have  seen  your  false  gods  which  are  devils. 
There  also  I  have  seen  the  priests  that  served  them,  and  many 
of  those  who  worshipped  them  plunged  into  torment  unutter- 
able.    Because  of  the  worship  of  these  demon  gods  the  people 
of  Anahuac  is  destined  to  destruction.' 

'  Have  you  no  word  of  comfort  for  me,  Papantzin,  my 
sister  ?  '  he  asked. 

1  None,'  she  answered.  *  Perchance  if  you  abandon  the 
worship  of  the  false  gods  you  may  save  your  soul ;  your  life 
you  cannot  save,  nor  the  lives  of  your  people.' 

Then  she  turned  and  passed  away  into  the  shadow  of  the 
trees  ;  I  heard  her  graveclothes  sweep  upon  the  grass. 

Now  a  fury  seized  Montezuma  and  he  raved  aloud,  saying  : 

*  Curses  on  you,  Papantzin,  my  sister  !  Why  then  do  you 
come  back  from  the  dead  to  bring  me  such  evil  tidings  ?  Had 
you  brought  hope  with  you,  had  you  shown  a  way  of  escape, 
then  I  would  have  welcomed  you.  May  you  go  back  into 
darkness  and  may  the  earth  lie  heavy  on  your  heart  for  ever. 
As  for  my  gods,  my  fathers  worshipped  them  and  I  will 
worship  them  till  the  end  ;  ay,  if  they  desert  me,  at  least  I  will 
never  desert  them.  The  gods  are  angry  because  the  sacrifices 
are  few  upon  their  altars,  henceforth  they  shall  be  doubled ; 
ay,  the  priests  of  the  gods  shall  themselves  be  sacrificed 
because  they  neglect  their  worship.' 

Thus  he  raved  on,  after  the  fashion  of  a  weak  man  mad- 
dened with  terror,  while  his  nobles  and  attendants  who  had 
followed  him  at  a  distance,  clustered  about  him,  fearful  and 
wondering.  At  length  there  came  an  end,  for  tearing  witt 
his  thin  hands  at  his  royal  robes  and  at  his  hair  and  beard, 
Montezuma  fell  and  writhed  in  a  fit  upon  the  ground. 

Then  they  carried  him  into  the  palace  and  none  saw  him 
for  three  days  and  nights.  But  he  made  no  idle  threat  as  to 
the  sacrifices,  for  from  that  night  forward  they  were  doubled 
throughout  the  land.  Already  the  shadow  of  the  Cross  la} 
deep  upon  the  altars  of  Anahuac,  but  still  the  smoke  of  theii 


THE  ARISING   OF  PAPANTZIN  139 

offerings  went  up  to  heaven  and  the  cry  of  the  captives 
rang  round  the  teocallis.  The  hour  of  the  demon  gods  was 
upon  them  indeed,  but  now  they  reaped  their  last  red  harvest, 
and  it  was  rich. 

Now  I,  Thomas  Wingfield,  saw  these  portents  with  my 
own  eyes,  but  I  cannot  say  whether  they  were  indeed  warn- 
ings sent  from  heaven  or  illusions  springing  from  the  acci- 
dents of  nature.  The  land  was  terror-struck,  and  it  may 
happen  that  the  minds  of  men  thus  smitten  can  find  a  dismal 
meaning  in  omens  which  otherwise  had  passed  unnoticed.  That 
Papantzin  rose  from  the  dead  is  true,  though  perhaps  she 
only  swooned  and  never  really  died.  At  the  least  she  did  not 
go  back  there  for  a  while,  for  though  I  never  saw  her  again, 
it  is  said  that  she  lived  to  become  a  Christian  and  told  strange 
tales  of  what  she  had  seen  in  the  land  of  Death.1 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  NAMING  OF  THE  BRIDES 

Now  some  months  passed  between  the  date  of  my  naming  as 
the  god  Tezcat  and  the  entry  of  the  Spaniards  into  Mexico, 
and  during  all  this  space  the  city  was  in  a  state  of  ferment. 
Again  and  again  Montezuma  sent  embassies  to  Cortes,  bear- 
ing with  them  vast  treasures  of  gold  and  gems  as  presents, 
and  at  the  same  time  praying  him  to  withdraw,  for  this  foolish 
prince  did  not  understand  that  by  displaying  so  much  wealth  he 
flew  a  lure  which  must  surely  bring  the  falcon  on  himself.  To 
these  ambassadors  Cortes  returned  courteous  answers  together 
with  presents  of  small  value,  and  that  was  all. 

Then  the  advance  began  and  the  emperor  learned  with 
dismay  of  the  conquest  of  the  warlike  tribe  of  the  Tlascalans, 
wbo,  though  they  were  Montezuma's  bitter  and  hereditary  foes, 
}ret  made  a  stand  against  the  white  man.  Next  came  the  tidings 
that  from  enemies  the  conquered  Tlascalans  had  become  the 
allies  and  servants  of  the  Spaniard,  and  that  thousands  of 
their  fiercest  warriors  were  advancing  with  him  upon  the 
sacred  city  of  Cholula.  A  while  passed  and  it  was  known  that 
Cholula  also  had  been  given  to  massacre,  and  that  the  holy, 
or  rather  the  unholy  gods,  had  been  torn  from  their  shrines. 

1  For  the  history  of  the  resurrection  of  Papantzin,  see  note 
danet's  translation  of  Sahagun,  page  870. — AUTHOR. 


MO  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

Marvellous  tales  were  told  of  the  Spaniards,  of  their  courage 
and  their  might,  of  the  armour  that  they  wore,  the  thunder 
that  their  weapons  made  in  battle,  and  the  fierce  beasts  which 
they  bestrode.  Once  two  heads  of  white  men  taken  in  a 
skirmish  were  sent  to  Montezuma,  fierce-looking  heads,  great 
and  hairy,  and  with  them  the  head  of  a  horse.  When  Monte- 
zuma saw  these  ghastly  relics  he  almost  fainted  with  fear, 
still  he  caused  them  to  be  set  up  on  pinnacles  of  the  great 
temple  and  proclamation  to  be  made  that  this  fate  awaited 
every  invader  of  the  land. 

Meanwhile  all  was  confusion  in  his  policies.  Day  by  day 
councils  were  held  of  the  nobles,  of  high  priests,  and  of 
neighbouring  and  friendly  kings.  Some  advised  one  thing, 
some  another,  and  the  end  of  it  was  hesitation  and  folly.  Ah  ! 
had  Montezuma  but  listened  to  the  voice  of  that  great  man 
Guatemoc,  Anahuac  would  not  have  been  a  Spanish  fief  to- 
day. For  Guatemoc  prayed  him  again  and  yet  again  to  put 
away  his  fears  and  declare  open  war  upon  the  Teules  before 
it  was  too  late;  to  cease  from  making  gifts  and  sending 
embassies,  to  gather  his  countless  armies  and  smite  the  foe 
in  the  mountain  passes. 

But  Montezuma  would  answer,  '  To  what  end,  nephew  ? 
How  can  I  struggle  against  these  men  when  the  gods  them- 
selves have  declared  for  them  ?  Surely  the  gods  can  take 
their  own  parts  if  they  wish  it,  and  if  they  will  not,  for  myself 
and  my  own  fate  I  do  not  care,  but  alas  !  for  my  people,  alas  ! 
for  the  women  and  the  children,  the  aged  and  the  weak.' 

Then  he  would  cover  his  face  and  moan  and  weep  like  a 
child,  and  Guatemoc  would  pass  from  his  presence  dumb 
with  fury  at  the  folly  of  so  great  a  king,  but  helpless  to 
remedy  it.  For  like  myself,  Guatemoc  believed  that  Monte- 
zuma had  been  smitten  with  a  madness  sent  from  heaven  to 
bring  the  land  to  rain. 

Now  it  must  be  understood  that  though  my  place  as  a  god 
gave  me  opportunities  of  knowing  all  that  passed,  yet  I, 
Thomas  Wingfield,  was  but  a  bubble  on  that  great  wave  of 
events  which  swept  over  the  world  of  Anahuac  two  genera- 
tions since.  I  was  a  bubble  on  the  crest  of  the  wave  indeed, 
but  at  that  time  I  had  no  more  power  than  the  foam  has  over 
the  wave.  Montezuma  distrusted  me  as  a  spy,  the  priests 
looked  on  me  as  a  god  and  future  victim  and  no  more,  only 
Guatemoc  my  friend,  and  Otomie  who  loved  me  secretly,  had 
any  faith  in  me,  and  with  these  two  I  often  talked,  showing 
them  the  true  meaning  of  those  things  that  were  happening 


THE  NAMING   OF  THE  BRIDES  141 

before  our  eyes.  But  they  also  were  strengthless,  for  though 
his  reason  was  no  longer  captain,  still  the  unchecked  power  of 
Montezuina  guided  the  ship  of  state  first  this  way  and  then 
that,  just  as  a  rudder  directs  a  vessel  to  its  ruin  when  the  helms- 
man has  left  it,  and  it  swings  at  the  mercy  of  the  wind  and  tide. 

The  people  were  distraught  with  fear  of  the  future,  but 
not  the  less  on  that  account,  or  perhaps  because  of  it,  they 
plunged  with  fervour  into  pleasures,  alternating  them  with 
religious  ceremonies.  In  those  days  no  feast  was  neglected 
and  no  altar  lacked  its  victim.  Like  a  river  that  quickens  its 
flow  as  it  draws  near  the  precipice  over  which  it  must  fall,  so 
the  people  of  Mexico,  foreseeing  ruin,  awoke  as  it  were  and 
lived  as  they  had  never  lived  before.  All  day  long  the  cries 
of  victims  came  from  a  hundred  temple  tops,  and  all  night 
the  sounds  of  revelry  were  heard  among  the  streets.  *  Let  us 
eat  and  drink,'  they  said,  '  for  the  gods  of  the  sea  are  upon  us 
and  to-morrow  we  die.'  Now  women  who  had  been  held 
virtuous  proved  themselves  wantons,  and  men  whose  names 
were  honest  showed  themselves  knaves,  and  none  cried  fie 
upon  them  ;  ay,  even  children  were  seen  drunken  in  the  streets, 
which  is  an  abomination  among  the  Aztecs. 

The  emperor  had  moved  his  household  from  Chapoltepec 
to  the  palace  in  the  great  square  facing  the  temple,  and 
this  palace  was  a  town  in  itself,  for  every  night  more  than 
a  thousand  human  beings  slept  beneath  its  roof,  not  to  speak 
of  the  dwarfs  and  monsters,  and  the  hundreds  of  wild  birds 
and  beasts  in  cages.  Here  every  day  I  feasted  with  whom  I 
would,  and  when  I  was  weary  of  feasting  it  was  my  custom  to 
sally  out  into  the  streets  playing  on  the  lute,  for  by  now  I 
had  in  some  degree  mastered  that  hateful  instrument,  dressed 
in  shining  apparel  and  attended  by  a  crowd  of  nobles  and 
royal  pages.  Then  the  people  would  rush  from  their  houses 
shouting  and  doing  me  reverence,  the  children  pelted  me  with 
flowers,  and  the  maidens  danced  before  me,  kissing  my  hands 
and  feet,  till  at  length  I  was  attended  by  a  mob  a  thousand 
strong.  And  I  also  danced  and  shouted  like  any  village  fool, 
for  I  think  that  a  kind  of  mad  humour,  or  perhaps  it  was 
the  drunkenness  of  worship,  entered  into  me  in  those  days. 
Also  I  sought  to  forget  my  griefs,  I  desired  to  forget  that  I 
was  doomed  to  the  sacrifice,  and  that  every  day  brought  me 
nearer  to  the  red  knife  of  the  priest. 

I  desired  to  forget,  but  alas  !  I  could  not.  The  fumes  of 
the  mescal  and  the  pulque  that  I  had  drunk  at  feasts  would  pass 
from  my  brain,  the  perfume  of  flowers,  the  sights  of  beauty 


142  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

and  the  adoration  of  the  people  would  cease  to  move  me,  and 
I  could  only  brood  heavily  upon  my  doom  and  think  with 
longing  of  my  distant  love  and  home.  In  those  days,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  tender  kindness  of  Otomie,  I  think  that  my 
heart  would  have  broken  or  I  should  have  slain  myself.  But 
this  great  and  beauteous  lady  was  ever  at  hand  to  cheer  me 
in  a  thousand  ways,  and  now  and  again  she  would  let  fall 
some  vague  words  of  hope  that  set  my  pulses  bounding.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  when  first  I  came  to  the  court  of 
Montezuma,  I  had  found  Otomie  fair  and  my  fancy  turned 
towards  her.  Now  I  still  found  her  fair,  but  my  heart  was 
so  full  of  terror  that  there  was  no  room  in  it  for  tender 
thoughts  of  her  or  of  any  other  woman.  Indeed  when  I  was 
not  drunk  with  wine  or  adoration,  I  turned  my  mind  to  the 
making  of  my  peace  with  heaven,  of  which  I  had  some  need. 
Still  I  talked  much  with  Otomie,  instructing  her  in  the 
matters  of  my  faith  and  many  other  things,  as  I  had  done 
by  Marina,  who  we  now  heard  was  the  mistress  and  inter- 
preter of  Cortes,  the  Spanish  leader.  She  for  her  part 
listened  gravely,  watching  me  the  while  with  her  tender  eyes, 
but  no  more,  for  of  all  women  Otomie  was  the  most  modest, 
as  she  was  the  proudest  and  most  beautiful. 

So  matters  went  on  until  the  Spaniards  had  left  Cholula  on 
their  road  to  Mexico.  It  was  then  that  I  chanced  one  morning 
to  be  sitting  in  the  gardens,  my  lute  in  hand,  and  having 
my  attendant  nobles  and  tutors  gathered  at  a  respectful  dis- 
tance behind  me.  From  where  I  sat  I  could  see  the  entrance 
to  the  court  in  which  the  emperor  met  his  council  daily,  and 
I  noted  that  when  the  princes  had  gone  the  priests  began  to 
come,  and  after  them  a  number  of  very  lovely  girls  attended 
by  women  of  middle  age.  Presently  Guatemoc  the  prince,  who 
now  smiled  but  rarely,  came  up  to  me  smiling,  and  asked  me  if 
I  knew  what  was  doing  yonder.  I  replied  that  I  knew  nothing 
and  cared  less,  but  I  supposed  that  Montezuma  was  gathering 
a  peculiar  treasure  to  send  to  his  masters  the  Spaniards. 

1  Beware  how  you  speak,  Teule,'  answered  the  prince 
haughtily.  l  Your  words  may  be  true,  and  yet  did  I  not  love 
you,  you  should  rue  them  even  though  you  hold  the  spirit  of 
Tezcat.  Alas ! '  he  added,  stamping  on  the  ground,  '  alas ! 
that  my  uncle's  madness  should  make  it  possible  that  such 
words  can  be  spoken.  Oh  !  were  I  emperor  of  Anahuac,  in  a 
single  week  the  head  of  every  Teule  in  Cholula  should  deck  a 
pinnacle  of  yonder  temple.' 


THE  NAMING   OF  THE  BRIDES  143 

'  Beware  how  you  speak,  prince,'  I  answered  mocking 
him,  '  for  there  are  those  who  did  they  hear,  might  cause  you 
to  rue  your  words.  Still  one  day  you  may  be  emperor,  and 
then  we  shall  see  how  you  will  deal  with  the  Teules,  at  least 
others  will  see  though  I  shall  not.  But  what  is  it  now  ? 
Does  Montezurna  choose  new  wives  ?  ' 

'  He  chooses  wives,  but  not  for  himself.  You  know,  Teule, 
that  your  time  grows  short.  Montezuma  and  the  priests 
name  those  who  must  be  given  to  you  to  wife.' 

1  Given  me  to  wife ! '  I  said  starting  to  my  feet ;  '  to  me 
whose  bride  is  death !  What  have  I  to  do  with  love  or 
marriage?  I  who  in  some  few  short  weeks  must  grace  an 
altar  ?  Ah !  Guatemoc,  you  say  you  love  me,  and  once  I 
saved  you.  Did  you  love  me,  surely  you  would  save  me  now 
as  you  swore  to  do.' 

*  I  swore  that  I  would  give  my  life  for  yours,  Teule,  if  it 
lay  in  my  power,  and  that  oath  I  would  keep,  for  all  do  not 
set  so  high  a  store  on  life  as  you,  my  friend.  But  I  cannot 
help  you;  you  are  dedicated  to  the  gods,  and  did  I  die  a 
hundred  times,  it  would  not  save  you  from  your  fate. 
Nothing  can  save  you  except  the  hand  of  heaven  if  it 
wills.  Therefore,  Teule,  make  merry  while  you  may,  and  die 
bravely  when  you  must.  Your  case  is  no  worse  than  mine 
and  that  of  many  others,  for  death  awaits  us  all.  Farewell.' 

When  he  had  gone  I  rose,  and  leaving  the  gardens  I  passed 
into  the  chamber  where  it  was  my  custom  to  give  audience  to 
those  who  wished  to  look  upon  the  god  Tezcat  as  they  called 
me.  Here  I  sat  upon  my  golden  couch,  inhaling  the  fumes 
of  tobacco,  and  as  it  chanced  I  was  alone,  for  none  dared 
to  enter  that  room  unless  I  gave  them  leave.  Presently  the 
chief  of  my  pages  announced  that  one  would  speak  with  me, 
and  I  bent  my  head,  signifying  that  the  person  should  enter, 
for  I  was  weary  of  my  thoughts.  The  page  withdrew,  and 
presently  a  veiled  woman  stood  before  me.  I  looked  at  her 
wondering,  and  bade  her  draw  her  veil  and  speak.  She 
obeyed,  and  I  saw  that  my  visitor  was  the  princess  Otomie. 
Now  I  rose  amazed,  for  it  was  not  usual  that  she  should  visit 
me  thus  alone.  I  guessed  therefore  that  she  had  tidings,  or 
was  following  some  custom  of  which  I  was  ignorant. 

'  I  pray  you  be  seated,'  she  said  confusedly  ;  '  it  is  not  fitting 
that  you  should  stand  before  me.' 

'  Why  not,  princess  ?  '  I  answered.  *  If  I  had  no  respect 
for  rank,  surely  beauty  must  claim  it.' 

'  A  truce  to  words,'  she  replied  with  a  wave  of  her  slim 


144  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

Land.  '  I  come  here,  0  Tezcat,  according  to  the  ancient  custom 
because  I  am  charged  with  a  message  to  you.  Those  whon 
you  shall  wed  are  chosen.  I  am  the  bearer  of  their  names.' 

'  Speak  on,  princess  of  the  Otomie.' 

'  They  are  ' — and  she  named  three  ladies  whom  I  knew  t( 
be  among  the  loveliest  in  the  land. 

'  I  thought  that  there  were  four,'  I  said  with  a  bitter  laugh , 
1  Am  I  to  be  defrauded  of  the  fourth '?  ' 

*  There  is  a  fourth,'  she  answered,  and  was  silent. 

'  Give  me  her  name,'  I  cried.     '  What  other  slut  has  beei 
found  to  marry  a  felon  doomed  to  sacrifice  ?  ' 

'  One  has  been  found,  0  Tezcat,  who  has  borne  other  title  \ 
than  this  you  give  her.' 

Now  I  looked  at  her  questioningly,  and  she  spoke  again  i:  i 
a  low  voice. 

'  I,  Otomie,  princess  of  the  Otomie,  Montezuma's  daughtei , 
am  the  fourth  and  the  first.' 

4  You  !  '  I  said,  sinking  back  upon  my  cushions.     '  You  ! ' 

1  Yes,  I.  Listen :  I  was  chosen  by  the  priests  as  tha 
most  lovely  in  the  land,  however  unworthily.  My  father,  tha 
emperor,  was  angry  and  said  that  whatever  befell,  I  shoul  1 
never  be  the  wife  of  a  captive  who  must  die  upon  the  alta  r 
of  sacrifice.  But  the  priests  answered  that  this  was  no  tima 
for  him  to  claim  exception  for  his  blood,  now  when  the  gods 
were  wroth.  Was  the  first  lady  in  the  land  to  be  withheld 
from  the  god  ?  they  asked.  Then  my  father  sighed  and  said 
that  it  should  be  as  I  willed.  And  I  said  with  the  priest  3, 
that  now  in  our  sore  distress  the  proud  must  humble  them- 
selves to  the  dust,  even  to  the  marrying  of  a  captive  slave 
who  is  named  a  god  and  doomed  to  sacrifice.  So  I,  princess 
of  the  Otomie,  have  consented  to  become  your  wife,  0  Tezcat, 
though  perchance  had  I  known  all  that  I  read  in  your  eyes 
this  hour,  I  should  not  have  consented.  It  may  happen  that 
in  this  shame  I  hoped  to  find  love  if  only  for  one  short  hour, 
and  that  I  purposed  to  vary  the  custom  of  our  people, 
and  to  complete  my  marriage  by  the  side  of  the  victim  en 
the  altar,  as,  if  I  will,  I  have  the  right  to  do.  But  I  see  well 
that  I  am  not  welcome,  and  though  it  is  too  late  to  go  back 
upon  my  word,  have  no  fear.  There  are  others,  and  I  shall 
not  trouble  you.  I  have  given  my  message,  is  it  your  plea- 
sure that  I  should  go  ?  The  solemn  ceremony  of  wedlock  will 
be  on  the  twelfth  day  from  now,  0  Tezcat.' 

Now  I  rose  from  my  seat  and  took  her  hand,  saying : 

'  I  thank  you,  Otomie,  for  your  nobleness  of  mind.     H£  d 


V 


THE  NAMING  OF  THE  BRIDES  145 

it  not  been  for  the  comfort  and  friendship  which  you  and 
Guatemoc  your  cousin  have  given  me,  I  think  that  ere  now  I 
should  be  dead.  So  you  desire  to  comfort  me  to  the  last ;  it 
seems  that  you  even  purposed  to  die  with  me.  How  am  I  to 
interpret  this,  Otomie  ?  In  our  land  a  woman  would  need  to 
love  a  man  after  no  common  fashion  before  she  consented  to 
share  such  a  bed  as  awaits  me  on  yonder  pyramid.  And  yet 
I  may  scarcely  think  that  you  whom  kings  have  sued  for  can 
place  your  heart  so  low.  How  am  I  to  read  the  writing  of 
your  words,  princess  of  the  Otomie  ?  ' 

1  Eead  it  with  your  heart,'  she  whispered  low,  and  I  felt 
her  hand  tremble  in  my  own. 

I  looked  at  her  beauty,  it  was  great ;  I  thought  of  her 
devotion,  a  devotion  that  did  not  shrink  from  the  most  horri- 
ble of  deaths,  and  a  wind  of  feeling  which  was  akin  to  love 
swept  through  my  soul.  But  even  as  I  looked  and  thought, 
I  remembered  the  English  garden  and  the  English  maid  from 
whom  I  had  parted  beneath  the  beech  at  Ditchingham,  and 
the  words  that  we  had  spoken  then.  Doubtless  she  still 
lived  and  was  true  to  me ;  while  I  lived  should  I  not  keep 
true  at  heart  to  her?  If  I  must  wed  these  Indian  girls,  I 
must  wed  them,  but  if  once  I  told  Otomie  that  I  loved  her, 
then  I  broke  my  troth,  and  with  nothing  less  would  she  be 
satisfied.  As  yet,  though  I  was  deeply  moved  and  the  tempta- 
tion was  great,  I  had  not  come  to  this. 

'  Be  seated,  Otomie,'  I  said,  '  and  listen  to  me.  You  see 
this  golden  token,'  and  I  drew  Lily's  posy  ring  from  my  hand, 
4  and  you  see  the  writing  within  it.' 

She  bent  her  head  but  did  not  speak,  and  I  saw  that  there 
was  fear  in  her  eyes. 

'  I  will  read  you  the  words,  Otomie,'  and  I  translated  into 
the  Aztec  tongue  the  quaint  couplet : 

Heart  to  heart, 
Though  far  apart. 

Then  at  last  she  spoke.  '  What  does  the  writing  mean  ?  ' 
she  said.  *  I  can  only  read  in  pictures,  Teule.' 

'  It  means,  Otomie,  that  in  the  far  land  whence  I  come, 
there  is  a  woman  who  loves  me,  and  who  is  my  love.' 

'  Is  she  your  wife  then  ? ' 

'  She  is  not  my  wife,  Otomie,  but  she  is  vowed  to  me  in 
marriage.' 

'  She  is  vowed  to  you  in  marriage,'  she  answered  bitterly  : 
'  Why,  then  we  are  equal,  for  so  am  I,  Teule.  But  there 

L 


146  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

is  this  difference  between  us  ;  you  love  her,  and  me  you  do  n<  , 
love.  That  is  what  you  would  make  clear  to  me.  Spare  n  j 
more  words,  I  understand  all.  Still  it  seems  that  if  I  ha^  3 
lost,  she  is  also  in  the  path  of  loss.  Great  seas  roll  betwee  i 
you  and  this  love  of  yours,  Teule,  seas  of  water,  and  the  alt;  r 
of  sacrifice,  and  the  nothingness  of  death.  Now  let  me  g  . 
Your  wife  I  must  be,  for  there  is  no  escape,  but  I  shall  »  t 
trouble  you  over  much,  and  it  will  soon  be  done  with.  The  i 
you  may  seek  your  desire  in  the  Houses  of  the  Stars  whithi  r 
you  must  wander,  and  it  is  my  prayer  that  you  shall  win  i ;. 
All  these  months  I  have  been  planning  to  find  hope  for  yo  i, 
and  I  thought  {hat  I  had  found  it.  But  it  was  built  upon  a 
false  belief,  and  it  is  ended.  Had  you  been  able  to  si  y 
from  your  heart  that  you  loved  me,  it  might  have  been  we  11 
for  both  of  us  ;  should  you  be  able  to  say  it  before  the  end,  it 
may  still  be  well.  But  I  do  not  ask  you  to  say  it,  and  bewa  $e 
how  you  tell  me  a  lie.  I  leave  you,  Teule,  but  before  I  go  I 
will  say  that  I  honour  you  more  in  this  hour  than  I  ha^  e 
honoured  you  before,  because  you  have  dared  to  speak  the 
truth  to  me,  Montezuma's  daughter,  when  a  lie  had  been  :;o 
easy  and  so  safe.  That  woman  beyond  the  seas  should  lie 
grateful  to  you,  but  though  I  bear  her  no  ill  will,  between  me 
and  her  there  is  a  struggle  to  the  death.  We  are  strangers  o 
•each  other,  and  strangers  we  shall  remain,  but  she  has  touch*  d 
your  hand  as  I  touch  it  now  ;  you  link  us  together  and  are  our 
-bond  of  enmity.  Farewell  my  husband  that  is  to  be.  We  sta  11 
meet  no  more  till  that  sorry  day  when  a  "  slut  "  shall  be  give  n 
to  a  "  felon  "  in  marriage.  I  use  your  own  words,  Teule  !  ' 

Then  rising,  Otomie  cast  her  veil  about  her  face  and  pass*  d 
slowly  from  the  chamber,  leaving  me  much  disturbed.  It  was 
>a  bold  deed  to  have  rejected  the  proffered  love  of  this  queen 
among  women,  and  now  that  I  had  done  so  I  was  not  altogether 
glad.  Would  Lily,  I  wondered,  have  offered  to  descend  fro  n 
such  state,  to  cast  off  the  purple  of  her  royal  rank  that  she 
might  lie  at  my  side  on  the  red  stone  of  sacrifice  ?  Perhaps 
not,  for  this  fierce  fidelity  is  only  to  be  found  in  women  of 
another  breed.  These  daughters  of  the  Sun  love  wholly 
when  they  love  at  all,  and  as  they  love  they  hate.  They  ask  no 
priest  to  consecrate  their  vows,  nor  if  these  become  hateful, 
will  they  be  bound  by  them  for  duty's  sake.  Their  own  desire 
is  their  law,  but  while  it  rules  them  they  follow  it  unflinch- 
ingly, and  if  need  be,  they  seek  its  consummation  in  the  gates 
of  death,  or  failing  that,  forgetfulness. 


THE  FOUR  GODDESSES  147 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE    FOUR   GODDESSES 

SOME  weary  time  went  by,  and  at  last  came  the  day  of  the 
entry  into  Mexico  of  Cortes  and  his  conquerors.  Now  of  all  the 
doings  of  the  Spaniards  after  they  occupied  the  city,  I  do  not 
propose  to  speak  at  length,  for  these  are  matters  of  history, 
and  I  have  my  own  story  to  tell.  So  I  shall  only  write  of 
those  of  them  with  which  I  was  concerned  myself.  I  did  not 
see  the  meeting  between  Montezuma  and  Cortes,  though  I 
saw  the  emperor  set  out  to  it  clad  like  Solomon  in  his  glory 
and  surrounded  by  his  nobles.  But  I  am  sure  of  this,  that 
no  slave  being  led  to  sacrifice  carried  a  heavier  heart  in  his 
breast  than  that  of  Montezuma  on  this  unlucky  day.  For 
now  his  folly  had  ruined  him,  and  I  think  he  knew  that  he 
was  going  to  his  doom. 

Afterwards,  towards  evening,  I  saw  the  emperor  come  back 
in  his  golden  litter,  and  pass  over  to  the  palace  built  by 
Axa  his  father,  that  stood  opposite  to  and  some  five  hundred 
paces  from  his  own,  facing  the  western  gate  of  the  temple. 
Presently  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  multitude  shouting,  and 
amidst  it  the  tramp  of  horses  and  armed  soldiers,  and  from  a 
seat  in  my  chamber  I  saw  the  Spaniards  advance  down  the 
great  street,  and  my  heart  beat  at  the  sight  of  Christian  men. 
In  front,  clad  in  rich  armour,  rode  their  leader  Cortes,  a  man 
of  middle  size  but  noble  bearing,  with  thoughtful  eyes  that 
noted  everything,  and  after  him,  some  few  on  horseback  but  the 
most  of  them  on  foot,  marched  his  little  army  of  conquerors, 
staring  about  them  with  bold  wondering  eyes  and  jesting  to 
each  other  in  Castiliau.  They  were  but  a  handful,  bronzed 
with  the  sun  and  scarred  by  battle,  some  of  them  ill-armed 
and  almost  in  rags,  and  looking  on  them  I  could  not  but 
marvel  at  the  indomitable  courage  that  had  enabled  them  to 
pierce  their  way  through  hostile  thousands,  sickness,  and 
war,  even  to  the  home  of  Montezuma's  power. 

By  the  side  of  Cortes,  holding  his  stirrup  in  her  hand, 
walked  a  beautiful  Indian  woman  dressed  in  white  robes  and 
crowned  with  flowers.  As  she  passed  the  palace  she  turned 
her  face.  I  knew  her  at  once  ;  it  was  my  friend  Marina,  who 
now  had  attained  to  the  greatness  which  she  desired,  and  who, 
notwithstanding  all  the  evil  that  she  had  brought  upon  her 
country,  looked  most  happy  in  it  and  in  her  master's  love. 

L  2 


148  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

As  the  Spaniards  went  by  I  searched  their  faces  one  b 
one,  with  the  vague  hope  of  hate.     For  though  it  might  wa 
chance  that  death  had  put  us  out  of  each  other's  reach,  I  ha; 
thought  to  see  de  Garcia  among  the  number  of  the  conqueror; 
Such  a  quest  as  theirs,  with  its  promise  of  blood,  and  gol( 
and  rapine,  would  certainly  commend  itself  to  his  evil  heai 
should  it  be  in  his  power  to  join  it,  and  a  strange  instinct  tol  L 
me  that  he  was  not  dead.     But  neither  dead  nor  living  wa  ; 
he  among  those  men  who  entered  Mexico  that  day. 

That  night  I  saw  Guatemoc  and  asked  him  how  thing 
went. 

'  Well  for  the  kite  that  roosts  in  the  dove's  nest,'  h  3 
answered  with  a  bitter  laugh,  '  but  very  ill  for  the  dov< . 
Montezuma,  my  uncle,  has  been  cooing  yonder,'  and  he  pointe  1 
to  the  palace  of  Axa,  '  and  the  captain  of  the  Teules  has  cooe  1 
in  answer,  but  though  he  tried  to  hide  it,  I  could  hear  th  3 
hawk's  shriek  in  his  pigeon's  note.  Ere  long  there  will  he 
merry  doings  in  Tenoctitlan.' 

He  was  right.  Within  a  week  Montezuma  was  treacherousl  7 
seized  by  the  Spaniards  and  kept  a  prisoner  in  their  quarter;;, 
watched  day  and  night  by  their  soldiers.  Then  came  ever  t 
upon  event.  Certain  lords  in  the  coast  lands  having  kille  1 
some  Spaniards,  were  summoned  to  Mexico  by  the  inst:- 
gation  of  Cortes.  They  came  and  were  burned  alive  in  the 
courtyard  of  the  palace.  Nor  was  this  all,  for  Montezunu , 
their  monarch,  was  forced  to  witness  the  execution  with  fettei  s 
on  his  ankles.  So  low  had  the  emperor  of  the  Aztecs  faller , 
that  he  must  bear  chains  like  a  common  felon.  After  this 
insult  he  swore  allegiance  to  the  King  of  Spain,  arid  evei 
contrived  to  capture  Cacama,  the  lord  of  Tezcuco,  by  treachery 
and  to  deliver  him  into  the  hands  of  the  Spaniards  on  whom 
he  would  have  made  war.  To  them  also  he  gave  up  all  the 
hoarded  gold  and  treasure  of  the  empire,  to  the  value  of 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  English  pounds.  All  this  the  nation 
bore,  for  it  was  stupefied  and  still  obeyed  the  commands  of  its 
captive  king.  But  when  he  suffered  the  Spaniards  to  worship 
the  true  God  in  one  of  the  sanctuaries  of  the  great  templo, 
a  murmur  of  discontent  and  sullen  fury  rose  among  the 
thousands  of  the  Aztecs.  It  filled  the  air,  it  could  be  heard 
wherever  men  were  gathered,  and  its  sound  was  like  that  of  a 
distant  angry  sea.  The  hour  of  the  breaking  of  the  tempest 
was  at  hand. 

Now  all  this  while  my  life  went  on  as  before,  save 
that  I  was  not  allowed  to  go  outside  the  walls  of  tte 


In  front,  clad 


u.r,  rode  their  leade] 


THE  FOUR   GODDESSES  149 

palace,  for  it  was  feared  lest  I  should  find  some  means  of 
intercourse  with  the  Spaniards,  who  did  not  know  that  a  man 
of  white  blood  was  confined  there  and  doomed  to  sacrifice. 
Also  in  these  days  I  saw  little  of  the  princess  Otomie,  the 
chief  of  my  destined  brides,  who  since  our  strange  love  scene 
had  avoided  me,  and  when  we  met  at  feasts  or  in  the  gardens 
spoke  to  me  only  on  indifferent  matters,  or  of  the  affairs  of 
state.  At  length  came  the  day  of  my  marriage.  It  was,  I 
remember,  the  night  before  the  massacre  of  the  six  hundred 
Aztec  nobles  on  the  occasion  of  the  festival  of  Huitzel. 

On  this  my  wedding  day  I  was  treated  with  great  circum- 
stance and  worshipped  like  a  god  by  the  highest  in  the  city,  who 
came  in  to  do  me  reverence  and  burned  incense  before  me,  till 
I  was  weary  of  the  smell  of  it,  for  though  such  sorrow  was  on 
the  land,  the  priests  would  abate  no  jot  of  their  ceremonies  or 
cruelties,  and  great  hopes  were  held  that  I  being  of  the  race 
of  Teules,  my  sacrifice  would  avert  the  anger  of  the  gods.  At 
sunset  I  was  entertained  with  a  splendid  feast  that  lasted  two 
hours  or  more,  and  at  its  end  all  the  company  rose  and  shouted 
as  with  one  voice : 

'  Glory  to  thee,  0  Tezcat !  Happy  art  thou  here  on  earth, 
happy  mayst  thou  be  in  the  Houses  of  the  Sun.  When  thou 
comest  thither,  remember  that  we  dealt  well  by  thee,  giving 
thee  of  our  best,  and  intercede  for  us  that  our  sins  may  be 
forgiven.  Glory  to  thee,  0  Tezcat !  ' 

Then  two  of  the  chief  nobles  came  forward,  and  taking 
torches  led  me  to  a  magnificent  chamber  that  I  had  never 
seen  before.  Here  they  changed  my  apparel,  investing  me 
in  robes  which  were  still  more  splendid  than  any  that  I 
had  worn  hitherto,  being  made  of  the  finest  embroidered 
cotton  and  of  the  glittering  feathers  of  the  humming  bird. 
On  my  head  they  set  wreaths  of  flowers,  and  about  my  neck 
and  wrists  emeralds  of  vast  size  and  value,  and  a  sorry  pop  • 
injay  I  looked  in  this  attire,  that  seemed  more  suited  to  a 
woman's  beauty  than  to  me. 

When  I  was  arrayed,  suddenly  the  torches  were  extinguished 
and  for  a  while  there  was  silence.  Then  in  the  distance  I 
heard  women's  voices  singing  a  bridal  song  that  was  beautiful 
enough  after  its  fashion,  though  I  forbear  to  write  it  down. 
The  singing  ceased  and  there  came  a  sound  of  rustling  robes 
and  of  low  whispering.  Then  a  man's  voice  spoke,  saying  : 

'  Are  ye  there,  ye  chosen  of  heaven  ?  ' 

And  a  woman's  voice,  I  thought  it  was  that  of .  Otomie, 
answered ; 


ISO  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

1  We  are  here.' 

'  0  maidens  of  Anahuac,'  said  the  man  speaking  from  th( 
darkness,  '  and  you,  0  Tezcat,  god  among  the  gods,  listen  tc 
my  words.     Maidens,  a  great  honour  has  been  done  to  you 
for  by  the  very  choice  of  heaven,  you  have  been  endowed  witl 
the  names,  the  lovelinesses,  and  the  virtues  of  the  four  grea 
goddesses,  and  chosen  to  abide  a  while  at  the  side  of  this  god 
your  maker  and  your  master,  who  has  been  pleased  to  visi 
us  for  a  space  before  he  seeks  his  home  in  the  habitations  o 
the  Sun.    See  that  you  show  yourselves  worthy  of  this  honour 
Comfort  him  and  cherish  him,  that  he  may  forget  his  glory  ii . 
your  kindness,  and  when  he  returns  to  his  own  place  may  take, 
with  him  grateful  memories  and  a  good  report  of  your  people . 
You  have  but  a  little  while  to  live  at  his  side  in  this  life,  f o:  • 
already,  like  those  of  a  caged  bird,  the  wings  of  his  spirit  bea : 
against  the  bars  of  the  flesh,  and  soon  he  will  shake  himself 
free  from  us  and  you.     Yet  if  you  will,  it  is  allowed  to  one  cf 
you   to  accompany  him  to  his  home,  sharing  his  flight  t) 
the  Houses  of  the  Sun.     But  to  all  of  you,  whether  you  g  > 
also,  or  whether  you  stay  to  mourn  him  during  your  life  day^ , 
I  say  love  and  cherish  him,  be  tender  and  gentle  towards  hin , 
for  otherwise  ruin  shall  overtake  you  here  and  hereafter,  an  1 
you  and  all  of  us  will  be  ill  spoken  of  in  heaven.     And  you,  0 
Tezcat,  we  pray  of  you  to  accept  these  maidens,  who  bear  the 
names  and  wear  the  charms  of  your  celestial  consorts,  for 
there  are  none  more  beautiful  or  better  born  in  the  realms  of 
Anahuac,  and  among  them  is  numbered  the  daughter  of  our 
king.     They  are  not  perfect  indeed,  for  perfection  is  known  to 
you  in  the  heavenly  kingdoms  only,  since  these  ladies  are  but 
shadows  and  symbols  of  the  divine  goddesses  your  true  wives, 
and  here  there  are  no  perfect  women.    Alas,  we  have  none  bettor 
to  offer  you,  and  it  is  our  hope  that  when  it  pleases  you  to  pa^s 
hence  you  will  think  kindly  of  the  women  of  this  land,  and  from 
on  high  bless  them  with  your  blessing,  because  your  memo] 
of  these  who  were  called  your  wives  on  earth  is  pleasant.' 

The  voice  paused,  then  spoke  again  : 

'  Women,  in  your  own  divine  names  of  Xochi,  Xilo,  Atl 
and  Clixto,  and  in  the  name  of  all  the  gods,  I  wed  you  to  Te 
cat,  the  creator,  to  sojourn  with  him  during  his  stay  on  eart 
The  god  incarnate  takes  you  in  marriage  whom  he  hims< 
created,  that  the  symbol  may  be  perfect  and  the  mystery  fu 
filled.  Yet  lest  your  joy  should  be  too  full — look  now  on  tha 
which  shall  be.* 

As  the  voice  spoke  these  words,  many  torches  sprang  ir 


THE  FOUR   GODDESSES  151 

flame  at  the  far  end  of  the  great  chamber,  revealing  a  dreadful 
sight.  For  there,  stretched  upon  a  stone  of  sacrifice,  was  the 
body  of  a  man,  but  whether  the  man  lived  or  was  modelled  in 
wax  I  do  not  know  to  this  hour,  though  unless  he  was  painted, 
I  think  that  he  must  have  been  fashioned  in  wax,  since  his 
skin  shone  white  like  mine.  At  the  least  his  limbs  and  head 
were  held  by  five  priests,  and  a  sixth  stood  over  him  clasping 
a  knife  of  obsidian  in  his  two  hands.  It  flashed  on  high,  and 
as  it  gleamed  the  torches  were  extinguished.  Then  came  the 
dull  echo  of  a  blow  and  a  sound  of  groans,  and  all  was  still, 
till  once  more  the  brides  broke  out  into  their  marriage  song, 
a  strange  chant  and  a  wild  and  sweet,  though  after  what  I 
had  seen  and  heard  it  had  little  power  to  move  me. 

They  sang  on  in  the  darkness  ever  more  loudly,  till  pre- 
sently a  single  torch  was  lit  at  the  end  of  the  chamber,  then 
another  and  another,  though  I  could  not  see  who  lit  them, 
and  the  room  was  a  flare  of  light.  Now  the  altar,  the  victim, 
and  the  priests  were  all  gone,  there  was  no  one  left  in  the 
place  except  myself  and  the  four  brides.  They  were  tall  and 
lovely  women  all  of  them,  clad  in  white  bridal  robes  starred 
over  with  gems  and  flowers,  and  wearing  on  their  brows  the 
emblems  of  the  four  goddesses,  but  Otomie  was  the  stateliest 
and  most  beautiful  of  the  four,  and  seemed  in  truth  a  goddess. 
One  by  one  they  drew  near  to  me,  smiling  and  sighing,  and 
kneeling  before  me  kissed  my  hand,  saying  : 

'  I  have  been  chosen  to  be  your  wife  for  a  space,  Tezcat, 
happy  maid  that  I  am.  May  the  good  gods  grant  that  I 
become  pleasing  to  your  sight,  so  that  you  may  love  me  as  I 
worship  you.' 

Then  she  who  had  spoken  would  draw  back  again  out  of 
earshot,  and  the  next  would  take  her  place. 

Last  of  all  came  Otomie.  She  knelt  and  said  the  words, 
then  added  in  a  low  voice, 

'  Having  spoken  to  you  as  the  bride  and  goddess  to  the 
husband  and  the  god  Tezcat,  now,  0  Teule,  I  speak  as  the 
woman  to  the  man.  You  do  not  love  me,  Teule,  therefore,  if 
it  is  your  will,  let  us  be  divorced  of  our  own  act  who  were 
wed  by  the  command  of  others,  for  so  I  shall  be  spared  some 
shame.  These  are  friends  to  me  and  will  not  betray  us  ; ' 
and  she  nodded  towards  her  companion  brides. 

'  As  you  will,  Otomie,'  I  answered  briefly. 

'  I  thank  you  for  your  kindness,  Teule,'  she  said  smiling 
sadly,  and  withdrew  making  obeisance,  looking  so  stately  and 
go  sweet  as  she  went,  that  again  my  heart  was  shaken  as 


152  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 


though  with  love.  Now  from  that  night  till  the  dreadful  hour 
of  sacrifice,  no  kiss  or  tender  word  passed  between  me  and 
the  princess  of  the  Otomie.  And  yet  our  friendship  and  affec- 
tion grew  daily,  for  we  talked  much  together,  and  I  sought  to 
turn  her  heart  to  the  true  King  of  Heaven.  But  this  was  not 
easy,  for  like  her  father  Montezuma,  Otomie  clung  to  the 
gods  of  her  people,  though  she  hated  the  priests,  and  save 
when  the  victims  were  the  foes  of  her  country,  shrank  from 
the  rites  of  human  sacrifice,  which  she  said  were  instituted 
by  the  pabas,  since  in  the  early  days  there  were  no  men 
offered  on  the  altars  of  the  gods,  but  flowers  only.  Daily  it 
grew  and  ripened  till,  although  I  scarcely  knew  it,  at  length 
in  my  heart,  after  Lily,  I  loved  her  better  than  anyone  on 
earth.  As  for  the  other  women,  though  they  were  gentle  and 
beautiful,  I  soon  learned  to  hate  them.  Still  I  feasted  and 
revelled  with  them,  partly  since  I  must,  or  bring  them  to  a 
miserable  death  because  they  failed  to  please  me,  and  partly 
that  I  might  drown  my  terrors  in  drink  and  pleasure,  for 
let  it  be  remembered  that  the  days  left  to  me  on  earth  were 
few,  and  the  awful  end  drew  near. 

The  day  following  the  celebration  of  my  marriage  was 
that  of  the  shameless  massa-cre  of  six  hundred  of  the  Aztec 
nobles  by  the  order  of  the  hidalgo  AlvaradoP  whom  Cortes  had 
left  in  command  of  the  Spaniards.  For  at  this  time  Cortes 
was  absent  in  the  coast  lands,  whither  he  had  gone  to  make 
war  on  Narvaez,  who  had  been  sent  to  subdue  him  by  his 
enemy  Velasquez,  the  governor  of  Cuba. 

On  this  day  was  celebrated  the  feast  of  Huitzel,  that  was 
held  with  sacrifice,  songs,  and  dances  in  the  great  court  of  the 
temple,  that  court  which  was  surrounded  by  a  wall  carved 
over  with  the  writhing  shapes  of  snakes.  It  chanced  that  on 
this  morning  before  he  went  to  join  in  the  festival,  Guatemoc 
the  prince,  came  to  see  me  on  a  visit  of  ceremony. 

I  asked  him  if  he  intended  to  take  part  in  the  feast,  as  the 
splendour  of  his  apparel  brought  me  to  believe. 

(  Yes,'  he  answered,  '  but  why  do  you  ask  ? ' 

'  Because,  were  I  you,  Guatemoc,  I  would  not  go.  Say 
now,  will  the  dancers  be  armed  ?  ' 

4  No,  it  is  not  usual.' 

6  They  will  be  unarmed,  Guatemoc,  and  they  are  the 
flower  of  the  land.  Unarmed  they  will  dance  in  yonder  en- 
closed space,  and  the  Teules  will  watch  them  armed.  Now,  how 
would  it  be  if  these  chanced  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  the  nobles  ? ' 


THE  FOUR   GODDESSES  153 

'I  do  not  know  why  you  should  speak  thus,  Teule,  for 
surely  these  white  men  are  not  cowardly  murderers,  still  I 
take  your  words  as  an  omen,  and  though  the  feast  must  be 
held /for  see  already  the  nobles  gather,  I  will  not  share  in  it.' 

*  You  are  wise,  Guatemoc,'  I  said.  *  I  am  sure  that  you  are 
wise.' 

Afterwards  Otomie,  Guatemoc,  and  I  went  into  the  garden 
of  the  palace  and  sat  upon  the  crest  of  a  small  pyramid,  a 
teocalli  in  miniature  that  Montezuma  had  built  for  a  place  of 
outlook  on  the  market  and  the  courts  of  the  temple.  From 
this  spot  we  saw  the  dancing  of  the  Aztec  nobles,  and  heard 
the  song  of  the  musicians.  It  was  a  gay  sight,  for  in  the 
bright  sunlight  their  feather  dresses  flashed  like  coats  of 
gems,  and  none  would  have  guessed  how  it  was  to  end. 
Mingling  with  the  dancers  were  groups  of  Spaniards  clad  in 
mail  and  armed  with  swords  and  matchlocks,  but  I  noted 
that,  as  the  time  went  on,  these  men  separated  themselves 
from  the  Indians  and  began  to  cluster  like  bees  about  the 
gates  and  at  various  points  under  the  shadow  of  the  Wall  of 
Serpents. 

1  Now  what  may  this  mean  ?  '  I  said  to  Guatemoc,  and  as 
I  spoke,  I  saw  a  Spaniard  wave  a  white  cloth  in  the  air. 
Then,  in  an  instant,  before  the  cloth  had  ceased  to  flutter,  a 
smoke  arose  from  every  side,  and  with  it  came  the  sound  of 
the  firing  of  matchlocks.  Everywhere  among  the  dancers 
men  fell  dead  or  wounded,  but  the  mass  of  them,  unharmed 
as  yet,  huddled  themselves  together  like  frightened  sheep,  and 
stood  silent  and  terror-stricken.  Then  the  Spaniards,  shout- 
ing the  name  of  their  patron  saint,  as  it  is  their  custom  to  do 
when  they  have  some  such  wickedness  in  hand,  drew  their 
swords,  and  rushing  on  the  unarmed  Aztec  nobles  began  to 
kill  them.  Now  some  shrieked  and  fled,  and  some  stood 
still  till  they  were  cut  down,  but  whether  they  stayed  or  ran 
the  end  was  the  same,  for  the  gates  were  guarded  and  the 
wall  was  too  high  to  climb.  There  they  were  slaughtered 
every  man  of  them,  and  may  God,  who  sees  all,  reward  their 
murderers  !  It  was  soon  over ;  within  ten  minutes  of  the  wav- 
ing of  the  cloth,  those  six  hundred  men  were  stretched  upon 
the  pavement  dead  or  dying,  and  with  shouts  of  victory  the 
Spaniards  were  despoiling  their  corpses  of  the  rich  ornaments 
they  had  worn. 

Then  I  turned  to  Guatemoc  and  said,  '  It  seems  that  you 
did  well  not  to  join  in  yonder  revel.' 

But  Guatemoc  made  no  answer.     He  stared  at  the  dead 


154  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

and  those  who  had  murdered  them,  and  said  nothing.  Only 
Otomie  spoke  :  *  You  Christians  are  a  gentle  people,'  she  said 
with  a  bitter  laugh  ;  '  it  is  thus  that  you  repay  our  hospitality. 
Now  I  trust  that  Montezuma,  my  father,  is  pleased  with  his 
guests.  Ah  !  were  I  he,  every  man  of  them  should  lie  on  the 
stone  of  sacrifice.  If  our  gods  are  devils  as  you  say,  what  are 
those  who  worship  yours  ?  ' 

Then  at  length  Guatemoc  said,  '  Only  one  thing  remains 
to  us,  and  that  is  vengeance.  Montezuma  has  become  a 
woman,  and  I  heed  him  no  more,  nay,  if  it  were  needful,  I 
would  kill  him  with  my  own  hand.  But  two  men  are  still 
left  in  the  land,  Cuitlahua,  my  uncle,  and  myself.  Now  I 
go  to  summon  our  armies.'  And  he  went. 

All  that  night  the  city  murmured  like  a  swarm  of  wasps, 
and  next  day  at  dawn,  so  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  the 
streets  and  market  place  were  filled  with  tens  of  thousands  of 
armed  warriors.  They  threw  themselves  like  a  wave  upon 
the  walls  of  the  palace  of  Axa,  and  like  a  wave  from  a  rock 
they  were  driven  back  again  by  the  fire  of  the  guns.  Thrice 
they  attacked,  and  thrice  they  were  repulsed.  Then  Monte- 
zuma, the  woman  king,  appeared  upon  the  walls,  praying  them 
to  desist  because,  forsooth,  did  they  succeed,  he  himself  might 
perish.  Even  then  they  obeyed  him,  so  great  was  their 
reverence  for  his  sacred  royalty,  and  for  a  while  attacked  the 
Spaniards  no  more.  But  further  than  this  they  would  not 
go.  If  Montezuma  forba.de  them  to  kill  the  Spaniards,  at 
least  they  determined  to  starve  them  out,  and  from  that  hour 
a  strait  blockade  was  kept  up  against  the  palace.  Hundreds 
of  the  Aztec  soldiers  had  been  slain  already,  but  the  loss  was 
not  all  upon  their  side,  for  some  of  the  Spaniards  and  many 
of  the  Tlascalans  had  fallen  into  their  hands.  As  for  these 
unlucky  prisoners,  their  end  was  swift,  for  they  were  taken  at 
once  to  the  temples  of  the  great  teocalli,  and  sacrificed  there 
to  the  gods  in  the  sight  of  their  comrades. 

Now  it  was  that  Cortes  returned  with  many  more  men, 
for  he  had  conquered  Narvaez,  whose  followers  joined  the 
standard  of  Cortes,  and  with  them  others,  one  of  whom  I  had 
good  reason  to  know.  Cortes  was  suffered  to  rejoin  his  com- 
rades in  the  palace  of  Axa  without  attack,  I  do  not  know  why. 
and  on  the  following  day  Cuitlahua,  Montezuma's  brother, 
king  of  Palapan,  was  released  by  him  that  he  might  sooth( 
the  people.  But  Cuitlahua  was  no  coward.  Once  safe  outside; 
his  prison  walls,  he  called  the  council  together,  of  whom  thn 
chief  was  Guatemoc. 


THE  FOUR   GODDESSES  155 

There  they  resolved  on  war  to  the  end,  giving  it  out  that 
Montezuma  had  forfeited  his  kingdom  by  his  cowardice,  and 
on  that  resolve  they  acted.  Had  it  been  taken  but  two  short 
months  before,  by  this  date  no  Spaniard  would  have  been 
left  alive,  in  Tenoctitlan.  For  after  Marina,  the  love  of 
Cortes,  whose  subtle  wit  brought  about  his  triumph,  it  was 
Montezuma  who  was  the  chief  cause  of  his  own  fall,  and  of 
that  of  the  kingdom  of  Anahuac. 


CHAPTER  XX 

OTOMIE'S  COUNSEL 

ON  the  day  after  the  return  of  Cortes  to  Mexico,  before  the 
hour  of  dawn  I  was  awakened  from  my  uneasy  slumbers  by 
the  whistling  cries  of  thousands  of  warriors  and  the  sound  of 
atabals  and  drums. 

Hurrying  to  my  post  of  outlook  on  the  little  pyramid,  where 
Otomie  joined  me,  I  saw  that  the  whole  people  were  gathered 
for  war.  So  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  in  square,  market 
place,  and  street,  they  were  massed  in  thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands.  Some  were  armed  with  slings,  some  with  bows 
and  arrows,  others  with  javelins  tipped  with  copper,  and  the 
club  set  with  spikes  of  obsidian  that  is  called  maqua,  and  yet 
others,  citizens  of  the  poorer  sort,  with  stakes  hardened  in 
the  fire.  The  bodies  of  some  were  covered  with  golden  coats 
of  mail  and  mantles  of  featherwork,  and  their  skulls  protected 
by  painted  wooden  helms,  crested  with  hair,  and  fashioned 
like  the  heads  of  pumas,  snakes,  or  wolves — others  wore 
escaupils,  or  coats  of  quilted  cotton,  but  the  most  of  them 
were  naked  except  for  a  cloth  about  the  loins.  On  the  flat 
azoteas,  or  roofs  of  houses  also,  and  even  on  the  top  of  the 
teocalli  of  sacrifice,  were  bands  of  men  whose  part  it  was  to 
rain  missiles  into  the  Spanish  quarters.  It  was  a  strange 
sight  to  see  in  that  red  sunrise,  and  one  never  to  be  forgotten, 
as  the  light  flashed  from  temples  and  palace  walls,  on  to  the 
glittering  feather  garments  and  gay  banners,  the  points  of 
countless  spears  and  the  armour  of  the  Spaniards,  who 
hurried  to  and  fro  behind  their  battlements  making  ready  their 
defence. 

So  soon  as  the  sun  was  up,  a  priest  blew  a  shrill  note 
upon  a  shell,  which  was  answered  by  a  trumpet  call  from  the 
Spanish  quarters.  Then  with  a  shriek  of  rage  the  thousands 


156  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

of  the  Aztecs  rushed  to  the  attack,  and  the  air  grew  dark 
with  missiles.  Instantly  a  wavering  line  of  fire  and  smoke, 
followed  by  a  sound  as  of  thunder,  broke  from  the  walls  of  the 
palace  of  Axa,  and  the  charging  warriors  fell  like  autumn  leaves 
beneath  the  cannon  and  arquebuss  balls  of  the  Christians. 

For  a  moment  they  wavered  and  a  great  groan  went  up 
to  heaven,  but  I  saw  Guatemoc  spring  forward,  a  banner 
in  his  hand,  and  forming  up  again  they  rushed  after  him. 
Now  they  were  beneath  the  wall  of  the  palace,  and  the 
assault  began.  The  Aztecs  fought  furiously.  Time  upon 
time  they  strove  to  climb  the  wall,  piling  up  the  bodies  of  the 
dead  to  serve  them  as  ladders,  and  time  upon  time  they  were 
repulsed  with  cruel  loss.  Failing  in  this,  they  set  themselves 
to  battering  it  down  with  heavy  beams,  but  when  the  breach 
was  made  and  they  clustered  in  it  like  herded  sheep,  the 
cannon  opened  fire  on  them,  tearing  long  lanes  through  their 
mass  and  leaving  them  dead  by  scores.  Then  they  took 
to  the  shooting  of  naming  arrows,  and  by  this  means  fired  the 
outworks,  but  the  palace  was  of  stone  and  would  not  burn. 
Thus  for  twelve  long  hours  the  struggle  raged  unceasingly, 
till  the  sudden  fall  of  darkness  put  an  end  to  it,  and  the  only 
sight  to  be  seen  was  the  flare  of  countless  torches  carried  by 
those  who  sought  out  the  dead,  and  the  only  sounds  to  be 
heard  were  the  voice  of  women  lamenting,  and  the  groans  of 
the  dying. 

On  the  morrow  the  fight  broke  out  again  at  dawn,  when 
Cortes  sallied  forth  with  the  greater  part  of  his  soldiers,  and 
some  thousands  of  his  Tlascalan  allies.  At  first  I  thought 
that  he  aimed  his  attack  at  Montezuma's  palace,  and  a  breath 
of  hope  went  through  me,  since  then  it  might  become  possible 
for  me  to  escape  in  the  confusion.  But  this  was  not  so,  his 
object  being  to  set  fire  to  the  houses,  from  the  flat  roofs  of 
which  numberless  missiles  were  hailed  hourly  upon  his 
followers.  The  charge  was  desperate  and  it  succeeded,  for 
the  Indians  could  not  withstand  the  shock  of  horsemen  any 
more  than  their  naked  skins  could  turn  the  Spaniards'  steel. 
Presently  scores  of  houses  were  in  flames,  and  thick  columns 
of  smoke  rolled  up  like  those  that  float  from  the  mouth  of 
Popo.  But  many  of  those  who  rode  and  ran  from  the  gates 
of  Axa  did  not  come  back  thither,  for  the  Aztecs  clung  to 
the  legs  of  the  horses  and  dragged  their  riders  away  living. 
That  very  day  these  captives  were  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of 
Huitzel,  and  in  the  sight  of  their  comrades,  and  with  them 
a  horse  was  offered  up,  which  had  been  taken  alive,  and  was 


OTOMfE'S  COUNSEL  157 

borne  and  dragged  with  infinite  labour  up  the  steep  sides  of 
the  pyramid.  Indeed  never  had  the  sacrifices  been  so  many 
as  during  these  days  of  combat.  All  day  long  the  altars  ran 
red,  and  all  day  long  the  cries  of  the  victims  rang  in  my  ears, 
as  the  maddened  priests  went  about  their  work.  For  thus 
they  thought  to  please  the  gods  who  should  give  them  victory 
over  the  Teules. 

Even  at  night  the  sacrifices  continued  by  the  light  of  the 
sacred  fires,  that  from  below  gave  those  who  wrought  them  the 
appearance  of  devils  flitting  through  the  flames  of  hell,  and  in- 
flicting its  torments  on  the  damned,  much  as  they  are  depicted 
in  the  *  Doom '  painting  of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  that 
is  over  the  chancel  arch  in  this  church  of  Ditchingham.  And 
hour  by  hour  through  the  darkness,  a  voice  called  out  threats 
and  warnings  to  the  Spaniards,  saying,  '  Huitzel  is  hungry  for 
your  blood,  ye  Teules,  ye  shall  surely  follow  where  ye  have 
seen  your  fellows  go  :  the  cages  are  ready,  the  knives  are 
sharp,  and  the  irons  are  hot  for  the  torture.  Prepare,  ye 
Teules,  for  though  ye  slay  many,  ye  cannot  escape.' 

Thus  the  struggle  went  on  day  after  day,  till  thousands 
of  the  Aztecs  were  dead,  and  the  Spaniards  were  well  nigh 
worn  out  with  hunger,  war,  and  wounds,  for  they  could  not 
rest  a  single  hour.  At  length  one  morning,  when  the  assault 
was  at  its  hottest,  Montezuma  himself  appeared  upon  the 
central  tower  of  the  palace,  clad  in  splendid  robes  and  wearing 
the  diadem.  Before  him  stood  heralds  bearing  golden  wands, 
and  about  him  were  the  nobles  who  attended  him  in  his 
captivity,  and  a  guard  of  Spaniards.  He  stretched  out  his 
hand,  and  suddenly  the  fighting  was  stayed  and  a  silence 
fell  upon  the  place,  even  the  wounded  ceased  from  their 
groaning.  Then  he  addressed  the  multitude.  What  he  said 
1  was  too  far  off  to  hear,  though  I  learned  its  purport  after- 
wards. He  prayed  his  people  to  cease  from  war,  for  the 
Spaniards  were  his  friends  and  guests  and  would  presently  leave 
the  city  of  Tenoctitlan.  When  these  cowardly  words  had  passed 
his  lips,  a  fury  took  his  subjects,  who  for  long  years  had 
worshipped  him  as  a  god,  and  a.  shriek  rent  the  air  that  seemed 
to  say  two  words  only  : 

'  Woman  !  Traitor  ! ' 

Then  I  saw  an  arrow  rush  upwards  and  strike  the  emperor, 
and  after  the  arrow  a  shower  of  stones,  so  that  he  fell  down 
there  upon  the  tower  roof. 

Now  a  voice  cried,  *  We  have  slain  our  king.  Monte- 
zuma is  dead,'  and  instantly  with  a  dreadful  wailing  the 


158  MONTEZUMAS  DAUGHTER 

multitude  fled  this  way  and  that,  so  that  presently  no  living 
man  could  be  seen  where  there  had  been  thousands. 

I  turned  to  comfort  Otomie,  who  was  watching  at  my  side, 
and  had  seen  her  royal  father  fall,  and  led  her  weeping  into 
the  palace.  Here  we  met  Guatemoc,  the  prince,  and  his  mien 
was  fierce  and  wild.  He  was  fully  armed  and  carried  a  bow 
in  his  hand. 

'  Is  Montezuma  dead  ?  '  I  asked. 

*  I  neither  know  nor  care,'  he  answered  with  a  savage 
laugh,  then  added : 

'  Now  curse  me,  Otomie  my  cousin,  for  it  was  my  arrow 
that  smote  him  down,  this  king  who  has  become  a  woman 
and  a  traitor,  false  to  his  manhood  and  his  country.' 

Then  Otomie  ceased  weeping  and  answered  : 

'  I  cannot  curse  you,  Guatemoc,  for  the  gods  have  smitten 
my  father  with  a  madness  as  you  smote  him  with  your  arrow, 
and  it  is  best  that  he  should  die,  both  for  his  own  sake  and 
for  that  of  his  people.  Still,  Guatemoc,  I  am  sure  of  this,  that 
your  crime  will  not  go  unpunished,  and  that  in  payment  for 
this  sacrilege,  you  shall  yourself  come  to  a  shameful  death.' 

'  It  may  be  so,'  said  Guatemoc,  'but  at  least  I  shall  not 
die  betraying  my  trust ; '  and  he  went. 

Now  I  must  tell  that,  as  I  believed,  this  was  my  last  day 
on  earth,  for  on  the  morrow  my  year  of  godhead  expired,  and 
I,  Thomas  Wingfield,  should  be  led  out  to  sacrifice.  Notwith- 
standing all  the  tumult  in  the  city,  the  mourning  for  the  dead 
and  the  fear  that  hung  over  it  like  a  cloud,  the  ceremonies  of 
religion  and  its  feasts  were  still  celebrated  strictly,  more 
strictly  indeed  than  ever  before.  Thus  on  this  night  a  festival 
was  held  in  my  honour,  and  I  must  sit  at  the  feast  crowned  with 
flowers  and  surrounded  by  my  wives,  while  those  nobles  who 
remained  alive  in  the  city  did  me  homage,  and  with  then. 
Cuitlahua,  who,  if  Montezuma  were  dead,  would  now  be 
emperor.  It  was  a  dreary  meal  enough,  for  I  could  scarcely  bo 
gay  though  I  strove  to  drown  my  woes  in  drink,  and  as  fo.* 
the  guests,  they  had  little  jollity  left  in  them.  Hundreds  of 
their  relatives  were  dead  and  with  them  thousands  of  th<3 
people;  the  Spaniards  still  held  their  own  in  the  fortress, 
and  that  day  they  had  seen  their  emperor,  who  to  them  was  i 
god,  smitten  down  by  one  of  their  own  number,  and  above  a]  1 
they  felt  that  doom  was  upon  themselves.  What  wonder  tha  t 
they  were  not  merry  ?  Indeed  no  funeral  feast  could  hav  3 
.been  more  sad,  for  flowers  and  wine  and  fair  women  do 


OTOMIE'S  COUNSEL  159 

Hot  make  pleasure,  and  after  all  it  was  a  funeral  feast — 
for  me. 

At  length  it  came  to  an  end  and  I  fled  to  my  own  apart- 
ments, whither  my  three  wives  followed  me,  for  Otomie  did 
not  come,  calling  me  most  happy  and  blessed  who  to-morrow 
should  be  with  myself,  that  is  with  my  own  godhead,  in 
heaven.  But  I  did  not  call  them  blessed,  for,  rising  in  wrath, 
I  drove  them  away,  saying  that  I  had  but  one  comfort  left,  and 
it  was  that  wherever  I  might  go  I  should  leave  them  behind. 

Then  I  cast  myself  upon  the  cushions  of  my  bed  and 
mourned  in  my  fear  and  bitterness  of  heart.  This  was  the 
end  of  the  vengeance  which  I  had  sworn  to  wreak  on  de 
Garcia,  that  I  myself  must  have  my  heart  torn  from  my 
breast  and  offered  to  a  devil.  Truly  Fonseca,  my  benefactor,, 
had  spoken  words  of  wisdom  when  he  counselled  me  to  take 
my  fortune  and  forget  my  oath.  Had  I  done  so,  to-day  I 
might  have  been  my  betrothed' s  husband  and  happy  in  her 
love  at  home  in  peaceful  England,  instead  of  what  I  was,  a 
lost  soul  in  the  power  of  fiends  and  about  to  be  offered  to  a 
fiend.  In  the  bitterness  of  the  thought  and  the  extremity  of 
my  anguish  I  wept  aloud  and  prayed  to  my  Maker  that  I 
might  be  delivered  from  this  cruel  death,  or  at  the  least  that 
my  sins  should  be  forgiven  me,  so  that  to-morrow  night  I 
might  rest  at  peace  in  heaven. 

Thus  weeping  and  praying  I  sank  into  a  half  sleep,  and 
dreamed  that  I  walked  on  the  hillside  near  the  church  path  that 
runs  through  the  garden  of  the  Lodge  at  Ditchingham.  The 
whispers  of  the  wind  were  in  the  trees  which  clothe  the  bank 
of  the  Vineyard  Hills,  the  scent  of  the  sweet  English  flowers 
was  in  my  nostrils  and  the  balmy  air  of  June  blew  on  my  brow. 
It  was  night  in  this  dream  of  mine,  and  I  thought  that  the 
moon  shone  sweetly  on  the  meadows  and  the  river,  while  from 
every  side  came  the  music  of  the  nightingale.  But  I  was  not 
thinking  of  these  delightful  sights  and  sounds,  though  they 
were  present  in  my  mind,  for  my  eyes  watched  the  church 
path  which  goes  up  the  hill  at  the  back  of  the  house,  and  my 
heart  listened  for  a  footstep  that  I  longed  to  hear.  Then 
there  came  a  sound  of  singing  from  beyond  the  hill,  and  the 
words  of  the  song  were  sad,  for  they  told  of  one  who  had 
sailed  away  and  returned  no  more,  and  presently  between  the 
appletrees  I  saw  a  white  figure  on  its  crest.  Slowly  it  came 
towards  me  and  I  knew  that  it  was  she  for  whom  I  waited, 
Lily  my  beloved.  Now  she  ceased  to  sing,  but  drew  on  gently 
and  her  face  seemed  very  sad.  Moreover  it  was  the  face  of  a 


160  MONTEZUMAS  DA  UGHTER 

woman  in  middle  life,  but  still  most  beautiful,  more  beautiful 
indeed  than  it  had  been  in  the  bloom  of  youth.  She  had 
reached  the  foot  of  the  hill  and  was  turning  towards  the  little 
garden  gate,  when  I  came  forward  from  the  shadow  of  the 
trees,  and  stood  before  her.  Back  she  started  with  a  cry  of 
fear,  then  grew  silent  and  gazed  into  my  face. 

1  So  changed,'  she  murmured ;  *  can  it  be  the  same  ? 
Thomas,  is  it  you  come  back  to  me  from  the  dead,  or  is  this 
but  a  vision  ?  '  and  slowly  and  doubtingly  the  dream  wraith 
stretched  out  her  arms  as  though  to  clasp  me. 

Then  I  awoke.  I  awoke  and  lo  !  before  me  stood  a  fair 
woman  clothed  in  white,  on  whom  the  moonlight  shone 
as  in  my  dream,  and  her  arms  were  stretched  towards  me 
lovingly. 

'  It  is  I,  beloved,  and  no  vision,'  I  cried,  springing  from  my 
bed  and  clasping  her  to  my  breast  to  kiss  her.  But  before 
my  lips  touched  hers  I  saw  my  error,  for  she  whom  I 
embraced  was  not  Lily  Bozard,  my  betrothed,  but  Otomie 
princess  of  the  Otomie,  who  was  called  my  wife.  Then  1 
knew  that  this  was  the  saddest  and  the  most  bitter  of  dreamt 
that  had  been  sent  to  mock  me,  for  all  the  truth  rushed  into 
my  mind.  Loosing  my  hold  of  Otomie,  I  fell  back  upon  th<: 
bed  and  groaned  aloud,  and  as  I  fell  I  saw  the  flush  of  shamo 
upon  her  brow  and  breast.  For  this  woman  loved  me,  and 
thus  my  act  and  words  were  an  insult  to  her,  who  could  gues  3 
well  what  prompted  them.  Still  she  spoke  gently. 

'  Pardon  me,  Teule,  I  came  but  to  watch  and  not  to  wake.M 
you.  I  came  also  that  I  may  see  you  alone  before  the  day- 
break, hoping  that  I  might  be  of  service,  or  at  the  least,  of 
comfort  to  you,  for  the  end  draws  near.  Say  then,  in  your 
sleep  did  you  mistake  me  for  some  other  woman  dearer  and 
fairer  than  I  am,  that  you  would  have  embraced  me  ? ' 

'  I  dreamed  that  you  were  my  betrothed  whom  I  love,  and 
who  is  far  away  across  the  sea,'  I  answered  heavily.  '  But 
enough  of  love  and  such  matters.  What  have  I  to  do  with 
them  who  go  down  into  darkness  ?  ' 

'  In  truth  I  cannot  tell,  Teule,  still  I  have  heard  wise  men  say 
that  if  love  is  to  be  found  anywhere,  it  is  in  this  same  darkness 
of  death,  that  is  light  indeed.  Grieve  not,  for  if  there  is  truth  in 
the  faith  of  which  you  have  told  me  or  in  our  own,  either  on 
this  earth  or  beyond  it,  with  the  eyes  of  the  spirit  you  will  see 
your  dear  before  another  sun  is  set,  and  I  pray  that  you  may  fi:id 
her  faithful  to  you.  Tell  me  now,  how  much  does  she  love  yo  i  ? 
Would  she  have  lain  by  your  side  on  the  bed  of  sacrifice  ;t3, 


V 


OTOMIE'S   COUNSEL  161 

had  things  gone  otherwise  between  us,  Teule,  it  was  my  hope 
to  do  ? ' 

'  No,'  I  answered,  '  it  is  not  the  custom  of  our  women  to 
kill  themselves  because  their  husbands  chance  to  die.' 

*  Perhaps  they  think  it  better   to   live   and   wed   again,* 
answered  Otomie  very  quietly,  but  I  saw  her  eyes  flash  and 
her  breast  heave  in  the  moonlight  as  she  spoke. 

*  Enough  of  this  foolish  talk,'  I  said.     '  Listen,  Otomie  ;  if 
you  had  cared  for  me  truly,  surely  you  would  have  saved  me 
from  this  dreadful  doom,  or  prevailed  on  Guatemoc  to  save  me. 
You  are  Montezuma's  daughter,  could  you  not  have  brought 
it  about  during  all  these  months  that  he  issued  his  royal 
mandate,  commanding  that  I  should  be  spared  ? ' 

*  Do  jou,  then,  take  me  for  so  poor  a  friend,  Teule  ?  '  she 
answered  hotly,     '  Know  that  for  all  these  months,  by  day 
and  by  night,  I  have  worked  and  striven  to  find  a  means  to 
rescue  you.     Before  he  became  a  prisoner  I  importuned  my 
father  the  emperor,  till  he  ordered  me  from  his  presence.     I 
have   sought  to  bribe  the  priests,  I  have   plotted  ways   of 
escape,  ay,  and  Guatemoc  has  helped,  for  he  loves  you.     Had 
it  not  been  for  the  coming  of  these  accursed  Teules,  and  the 
war  that  they  have  levied  in  the  city,  I  had  surely  saved 
you,  for  a  woman's  thought  leaps  far,  and  can  find  a  path 
where   none   seems   possible.     But   this    war    has    changed 
everything,  and  moreover  the  star-readers   and  diviners  of 
auguries  have  given  a  prophecy  which  seals  your  fate.     For 
they  have  prophesied  that  if  your  blood  flows,  and  your  heart 
is   offered  at   the  hour   of  noon  to-morrow  on  the  altar   of 
Tezcat,  our  people  shall  be  victorious  over  the  Teules,  and 
utterly  destroy  them.     But  if  the  sacrifice  is  celebrated  one 
moment  before  or  after  that  propitious  hour,  then  the  doom 
of  Tenoctitlan  is  sealed.     Also  they  have  declared  that  you 
must  die,  not,  according  to  custom,  at  the  Temple  of  Arms 
across  the  lake,  but  on  the  great  pyramid  before  the  chief 
statue  of  the  god.     All  this  is  known  throughout  the  land ; 
thousands   of  priests   are   now  offering  up  prayers   that   the 
sacrifice  may  be  fortunate,  and  a  golden  ring  has  been  hung 
over  the  stone  of  slaughter  in  such  a  fashion  that  the  light  of 
the  sun  must  strike  upon  the  centre  of  your  breast  at  the  very 
moment  of  mid-day.     For  weeks  you  have  been  watched  as  a 
jaguar   watches  its  prey,   for  it  was  feared  that  you  would 
escape  to  the  Teules,  and  we,  your  wives,  have  been  watched 
also.     At  this  moment  there  is  a  triple  ring  of  guards  about 
the    palace,   and  priests   are   set   without    your    doors   and 

If 


162  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

beneath  the  window  places.  Judge,  then,  what  chance  there 
is  of  escape,  Teule.' 

'  Little  indeed,'  I  said,  '  and  yet  I  know  a  road.  If  I  kill 
myself,  they  cannot  kill  me.' 

*  Nay,'  she  answered  hastily,  l  what  shall  that  avail  you  ? 
While  you  live  you  may  hope,  but  once  dead,  you  are  dead 
for  ever.  Also  if  you  must  die,  it  is  best  that  you  should  die 
by  the  hand  of  the  priest.  Believe  me,  though  the  end  is 
horrible,'  and  she  shuddered,  'it  is  almost  painless,  so  they 
say,  and  very  swift.  They  will  not  torture  you,  that  we  have 
saved  you,  Guatemoc  and  I,  though  at  first  they  wished  thus 
to  honour  the  god  more  particularly  on  this  great  day.' 

'  0  Teule,'  Otomie  went  on,  seating  herself  by  me  on  the 
bed,  and  taking  my  hand,  '  think  no  more  of  these  brief  terrors, 
but  look  beyond  them.  Is  it  so  hard  a  thing  to  die,  and 
swiftly  ?  We  all  must  die,  to-day,  or  to-night,  or  the  next 
day,  it  matters  little  when— and  your  faith,  like  ours,  teaches 
that  beyond  the  grave  is  endless  blessedness.  Think  then, 
my  friend,  to-morrow  you  will  have  passed  far  from  this  strife 
and  turmoil ;  the  struggle  and  the  sorrows  and  the  daily  fears 
for  the  future  that  make  the  soul  sick  will  be  over  for  you, 
you  will  be  taken  to  your  peace,  where  no  one  shall  disturb  you 
for  ever.  There  you  will  find  that  mother  whom  you  have  told 
me  of,  and  who  loved  you,  and  there  perhaps  one  will  join  you 
who  loves  you  better  than  your  mother,  mayhap  even  I  ma} 
meet  you  there,  friend,'  and  she  looked  up  at  me  strangely. 
'The  road  that  you  are  doomed  to  walk  is  dark  indeed, 
but  surely  it  must  be  well-trodden,  and  there  is  light  shining 
beyond  it.  So  be  a  man,  my  friend,  and  do  not  grieve  ;  rejoice 
rather  that  at  sovearly  an  age  you  have  done  with  woes  and 
doubts,  and  come  to  the  gates  of  joy,  that  you  have  passed  tho 
thorny,  unwatered  wilderness  and  see  the  smiling  lakes  and 
gardens,  and  among  them  the  temples  of  your  eternal  city. 

'  And  now  farewell.  We  meet  no  more  till  the  hour  of  sacri  - 
fice,  for  we  women  who  masquerade  as  wives  must  accompany 
you  to  the  first  platforms  of  the  temple.  Farewell,  dear  friend, 
and  think  upon  my  words  ;  whether  they  are  acceptable  to  you 
or  no,  I  am  sure  of  this,  that  both  for  the  sake  of  your  own 
honour  and  because  I  ask  it  of  you,  you  will  die  bravely  t,s 
though  the  eyes  of  your  own  people  were  watching  all/  Ard 
bending  suddenly,  Otomie  kissed  me  on  the  forehead  gent'y 
as  a  sister  might,  and  was  gone. 

The  curtains  swung  behind  her,  but  the  echoes  of  hir 
noble  words  still  dwelt  in  my  heart.  Nothing  can  make  mr.n 


V 


OTOMI&S  COUNSEL  163 

look  on  death  lovingly,  and  that  awaiting  me  was  one  from 
which  the  bravest  would  shrink,  yet  I  felt  that  Otomie  had 
spoken  truth,  and  that,  terrible  as  it  seemed,  it  might  prove 
less  terrible  than  life  had  shewn  itself  to  be.  An  unnatural 
calm  fell  upon  my  soul  like  some  dense  mist  upon  the  face  of 
the  ocean.  Beneath  that  mist  the  waters  might  foam,  above  it 
the  sun  might  shine,  yet  around  was  one  grey  peace.  In  this 
hour  I  seemed  to  stand  outside  of  my  earthly  self,  and  to  look 
on  all  things  with  a  new  sense.  The  tide  of  life  was  ebbing 
away  from  me,  the  shore  of  death  loomed  very  near,  and  I 
understood  then,  as  in  extreme  old  age  I  understand  to-day,  how 
much  more  part  we  mortals  have  in  death  than  in  this  short 
accident  of  life.  I  could  consider  all  my  past,  I  could  wonder 
on  the  future  of  my  spirit,  and  even  marvel  at  the  gentle- 
ness and  wisdom  of  the  Indian  woman,  who  was  able  to  think 
such  thoughts  and  utter  them. 

Well,  whatever  befell,  in  one  thing  I  would  not  disappoint 
her,  I  would  die  bravely  as  an  Englishman  should  do,  leaving 
the  rest  to  God.  These  barbarians  should  never  say  of  me 
that  the  foreigner  was  a  coward.  Who  was  I  that  I  should 
complain  ?  Did  not  hundreds  of  men  as  good  as  I  was  perish 
daily  in  yonder  square,  and  without  a  murmur?  Had  not 
my  mother  died  also  at  the  hand  of  a  murderer  ?  Was  not 
that  unhappy  lady,  Isabella  de  Siguenza,  walled  up  alive 
because  she  had  been  mad  enough  to  love  a  villain  who 
betrayed  her  ?  The  world  is  full  of  terrors  and  sorrows  such 
as  mine,  who  was  I  that  I  should  complain  ? 

So  I  mused  on  till  at  length  the  day  dawned,  and  with 
the  rising  sun  rose  the  clamour  of  men.  making  ready  for 
battle.  For  now  the  fight  raged  from  day  to  day,  and  this 
was  to  be  one  of  the  most  terrible.  But  I  thought  little  then 
of  the  war  between  the  Aztecs  and  the  Spaniards,  who  must 
prepare  myself  for  the  struggle  of  my  own  death  that  was 
now  at  hand. 


CHAPTEE  XXI 

THE    KISS    OF    LOVE 

PRESENTLY  there  was  a  sound  of  music,  and,  accompanied  by 
certain  artists,  my  pages  entered,  bearing  with  them  apparel 
more  gorgeous  than  any  that  I  had  worn  hitherto.  First, 
these  pages  having  stripped  me  of  my  robes,  the  artists  painted 

M   2 


164  MQNTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

all  my  body  in  hideous  designs  of  red,  and  white,  and  blue, 
till  I  resembled  a  flag,  not  even  sparing  my  face  and  lips, 
which  they  coloured  with  carmine  hues.  Over  my  heart 
also  they  drew  a  scarlet  ring  with  much  care  and  measure- 
ment: Then  they  did  up  my  hair  that  now  hung  upon  my 
shoulders,  after  the  fashion  in  which  it  was  worn  by  generals 
among  the  Indians,  tying  it  on  the  top  of  my  head  with  an 
embroidered  ribbon  red  in  colour,  and  placed  a  plume  of 
cock's  feathers  above  it.  Next,  having  arrayed -my  body  in 
gorgeous  vestments  not  unlike  those  used  by  popish  priests  at 
the  celebration  of  the  mass,  they  set  golden  earrings  in  my  ears, 
golden  bracelets  on  my  wrists  and  ankles,  and  round  my 
neck  a  collar  of  priceless  emeralds.  On  my  breast  also  they 
hung  a  great  gem  that  gleamed  like  moonlit  water,  and 
beneath  my  chin  a  false  beard  made  from  pink  sea  shells. 
Then  having  twined  me  round  with  wreaths  of  flowers  till  I 
thought  of  the  maypole  on  Bungay  Common,  they  rested 
from  their  labours,  filled  with  admiration  at  their  handi- 
work. 

Now  the  music  sounded  again  and  they  gave  me  two  lutes, 
one  of  which  I  must  hold  in  either  hand,  and  conducted  me  to 
the  great  hall  of  the  palace.  Here  a  number  of  people  of 
rank  were  gathered,  all  dressed  in  festal  attire,  and  here  alsc 
on  a  dais  to  which  I  was  led,  stood  my  four  wives  clad  in  the 
rich  dresses  of  the  four  goddesses  Xochi,  Xilo,  Atla,  and 
Clixto,  after  whom  they  were  named  for  the  days  of  their 
wifehood,  Atla  being  the  princess  Otomie.  When  I  hac. 
taken  my  place  upon  the  dais,  my  wives  came  forward  one  by 
one,  and  kissing  me  on  the  brow,  offered  me  sweetmeats  and 
meal  cakes  in  golden  platters,  and  cocoa  and  mescal  in  golden 
cups.  Of  the  mescal  I  drank,  for  it  is  a  spirit  and  I  needed 
inward  comfort,  but  the  other  dainties  I  could  not  touch. 
These  ceremonies  being  finished,  there  was  silence  for  a  while, 
till  presently  a  band  of  filthy  priests  entered  at  the  far  end  of  the 
chamber,  clad  in  their  scarlet  sacrificial  robes.  Blood  was  on 
them  everywhere,  their  long  locks  were  matted  with  it,  their 
hands  were  red  with  it,  even  their  fierce  eyes  seemed  full  of 
it.  They  advanced  up  the  chamber  till  they  stood  before  the 
da'is,  then  suddenly  the  head  priest  lifted  up  his  hands,  cryin  y 
aloud  : 

*  Adore  the  immortal  god,  ye  people,'  and  all  those  gathered 
there  prostrated  themselves  shouting : 

'  We  adore  the  god.' 

Thrice  the  priest  cried  aloud,  and  thrice  they  answeredhim 


\ 


THE  KISS  OF  LOVE  165 

thus,  prostrating  themselves  at  every  answer.  Then  they  rose 
again,  and  the  priest  addressed  me,  saying : 

'  Forgive  us,  0  Tezcat,  that  we  cannot  honour  you  as  it  is 
meet,  for  our  sovereign  should  have  been  here  to  worship  you 
with  us.  But  you  know,  0  Tezcat,  how  sore  is  the  strait  of 
your  servants,  who  must  wage  war  in  their  own  city  against 
those  who  blaspheme  you  and  your  brother  gods.  You  know 
that  our  beloved  emperor  lies  wounded,  a  prisoner  in  their 
unholy  hands.  When  we  have  gratified  your  longing  to  pass 
beyond  the  skies,  0  Tezcat,  and  when  in  your  earthly  person 
you  have  taught  us  the  lesson  that  human  prosperity  is  but  a 
shadow  which  flees  away  ;  in  memory  of  our  love  for  you  inter- 
cede for  us,  we  beseech  you,  that  we  may  smite  these  wicked 
ones  and  honour  you  and  them  by  the  rite  of  their  own  sacri- 
fice. 0  Tezcat,  you  have  dwelt  with  us  but  a  little  while,  and 
now  you  will  not  suffer  that  we  hold  you  longer  from  your 
glory,  for  your  eyes  have  longed  to  see  this  happy  day,  and  it 
is  come  at  last.  We  have  loved  you,  Tezcat,  and  ministered 
to  you,  grant  in  return  that  we  may  see  you  in  your  splendour, 
we  who  are  your  little  children,  and  till  we  come,  watch  well 
over  our  earthly  welfare,  and  that  of  the  people  among  whom 
you  have  deigned  to  sojourn.' 

Having  spoken  some  such  words  as  these,  that  at  times 
could  scarcely  be  heard  because  of  the  sobbing  of  the  people, 
and  of  my  wives  who  wept  loudly,  except  Otomie  alone,  this 
villainous  priest  made  a  sign  and  once  more  the  music  sounded. 
Then  he  and  his  band  placed  themselves  about  me,  my  wives 
the  goddesses  going  before  and  after,  and  led  me  down  the  hall 
and  on  to  the  gateways  of  the  palace,  which  were  thrown  wide 
for  us  to  pass.  Looking  round  me  with  a  stony  wonder,  for  in 
this  my  last  hour  nothing  seemed  to  escape  my  notice,  I  saw 
that  a  strange  play  was  being  played  about  us.  Some  hun- 
dreds of  paces  away  the  attack  on  the  palace  of  Axa,  where  the 
Spaniards  were  entrenched,  raged  with  fury.  Bands  of  war- 
riors were  attempting  to  scale  the  walls  and  being  driven  back 
by  the  deadly  fire  of  the  Spaniards  and  the  pikes  and  clubs 
of  their  Tlascalan  allies,  while  from  the  roofs  of  such  of  the 
neighbouring  houses  as  remained  unburned,  and  more  especi- 
ally from  the  platform  of  the  great  teocalli,  on  which  I  must 
presently  give  up  the  ghost,  arrows,  javelins,  and  stones  were 
poured  by  thousands  into  the  courtyards  and  outer  works  of  the 
Spanish  quarters. 

Five  hundred  yards  away  or  so,  raged  this  struggle  to  the 
death,  but  about  me,  around  the  gates  of  Montezuma's  palace 


166  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

on  the  hither  side  of  the  square,  was  a  different  scene.  Here 
were  gathered  a  vast  crowd,  among  them  many  women  and 
children,  waiting  to  see  me  die.  They  came  with  flowers  in 
their  hands,  with  the  sound  of  music  and  joyous  cries,  and 
when  they  saw  me  they  set  up  such  a  shout  of  welcome 
that  it  almost  drowned  the  thunder  of  the  guns  and  the 
angry  roar  of  battle.  Now  and  again  an  ill-aimed  cannon  ball 
would  plough  through  them,  killing  some  and  wounding  others, 
but  the  rest  took  no  heed,  only  crying  the  more, '  Welcome, 
Tezcat,  and  farewell.  Blessings  on  you,  our  deliverer,  welcome 
and  farewell !  ' 

We  went  slowly  through  the  press,  treading  on  a  path 
of  flowers,  till  we  came  across  the  courtyard  to  the  base  of 
the  pyramid.  Here  at  the  outer  gate  there  was  a  halt  because 
of  the  multitude  of  the  people,  and  while  we  waited  a  war- 
rior thrust  his  way  through  the  crowd  and  bowed  before  me. 
Glancing  up  I  saw  that  it  was  Guatemoc. 

'  Teule,'  he  whispered  to  me,  '  I  leave  my  charge  yonder,' 
and  he  nodded  towards  the  force  who  strove  to  break  a  way 
into  the  palace  of  Axa,  '  to  bid  you  farewell.  Doubtless  we 
shall  meet  again  ere  long.  Believe  me,  Teule,  I  would  have 
helped  you  if  I  could,  but  it  cannot  be.  I  wish  that  I  might 
change  places  with  you.  My  friend,  farewell.  Twice  you  have 
saved  my  life,  but  yours  I  cannot  save.' 

'  Farewell,  Guatemoc,'  I  answered  ;  '  heaven  prosper  you, 
for  you  are  a  true  man.' 

Then  we  passed  on. 

At  the  foot  of  the  pyramid  the  procession  was  formed,  anc 
here  one  of  my  wives  bade  me  adieu  after  weeping  on  my  neck, 
though  I  did  not  weep  on  hers.  Now  the  road  to  the  summit 
of  the  teocalli  winds  round  and  round  the  pyramid,  ever  mount- 
ing higher  as  it  winds,  and  along  this  road  we  went  in  solemn 
state.  At  each  turn  we  halted  and  another  wife  bade  mo 
a  last  good-bye,  or  one  of  my  instruments  of  music,  which 
I  did  not  grieve  to  see  the  last  of,  or  some  article  of  my  strong* ; 
attire,  was  taken  from  me.  At  length  after  an  hour's  march, 
for  our  progress  was  slow,  we  reached  the  flat  top  of  the  pyra- 
mid that  is  approached  by  a  great  stair,  a  space  larger  than 
the  area  of  the  churchyard  here  at  Ditchinghom,  and  unfenced 
at  its  lofty  edge.  Here  on  this  dizzy  place  stood  the  temples 
of  Huitzel  and  of  Tezcat,  soaring  structures  of  stone  and  wood, 
within  which  were  placed  the  horrid  effigies  of  the  gods,  an  1 
dreadful  chambers  stained  with  sacrifice.  Here,  too,  weia 
the  holy  fires  that  burned  eternally,  the  sacrificial  stones,  th  3 


THE  KISS  OF  LOVE  167 

implements  of  torment,  and  the  huge  drum  of  snakes'  skins, 
but  for  the  rest  the  spot  was  bare.  It  was  bare  but  not  empty, 
for  on  that  side  of  it  which  looked  towards  the  Spanish  quar- 
ters were  stationed  some  hundreds  of  men  who  hurled  missiles 
into  their  camp  without  ceasing.  On  the  other  side  also  were 
gathered  a  concourse  of  priests  awaiting  the  ceremony  of  my 
death.  Below  the  great  square,  fringed  round  with  burnt- 
out  houses,  was  crowded  with  thousands  of  people,  some  of 
them  engaged  in  combat  with  the  Spaniards,  but  the  larger 
part  collected  there  to  witness  my  murder. 

Now  we  reached  the  top  of  the  pyramid,  two  hours  before 
midday,  for  there  were  still  many  rites  to  be  carried  out 
ere  the  moment  of  sacrifice.  First  I  was  led  into  the  sanc- 
tuary of  Tezcat,  the  god  whose  name  I  bore.  Here  was  his 
statue  or  idol,  fashioned  in  black  marble  and  covered  with 
golden  ornaments.  In  the  hand  of  this  idol  was  a  shield 
of  burnished  gold  on  which  its  jewelled  eyes  were  fixed,  read- 
ing there,  as  his  priests  fabled,  all  that  passed  upon  the  earth 
he  had  created.  Before  him  also  was  a  plate  of  gold,  which 
with  muttered  invocations  the  head  priest  cleansed  as  I 
watched,  rubbing  it  with  his  long  and  matted  locks.  This 
done  he  held  it  to  my  lips  that  I  might  breathe  on  it,  and  I 
turned  faint  and  sick,  for  I  knew  that  it  was  being  made  ready 
to  receive  the  heart  which  I  felt  beating  in  my  breast. 

Now  what  further  ceremonies  were  to  be  carried  out  in 
this  unholy  place  I  do  not  know,  for  at  that  moment  a  great 
tumult  arose  in  the  square  beneath,  and  I  was  hurried  from 
the  sanctuary  by  the  priests.  Then  I  perceived  this  :  galled 
to  madness  by  the  storm  of  missiles  rained  upon  them  from  its 
crest,  the  Spaniards  were  attacking  the  teocalli.  Already 
they  were  pouring  across  the  courtyard  in  large  companies, 
led  by  Cortes  himself,  and  with  them  came  many  hundreds 
of  their  allies  the  Tlascalans.  On  the  other  hand  some 
thousands  of  the  Aztecs  were  rushing  to  the  foot  of  the  first 
stairway  to  give  the  white  men  battle  there.  Five  minutes 
passed  and  the  fight  grew  fierce.  Again  and  again,  covered  by 
the  fire  of  the  arquebusiers,  the  Spaniards  charged  the 
Aztecs,  but  their  horses  slipping  upon  the  stone  pavement,  at 
length  they  dismounted  and  continued  the  fray  on  foot. 
Slowly  and  with  great  slaughter  the  Indians  were  pushed  back 
and  the  Spaniards  gained  a  footing  on  the  first  stairway. 
But  hundreds  of  warriors  still  crowded  the  lofty  winding  road, 
and  hundreds  more  held  the  top,  and  it  was  plain  that  if  the 
Spaniards  won  through  at  all,  the  task  would  be  a  hard  one. 


i68  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

Still  a  fierce  hope  smote  me  like  a  blow  when  I  saw 
what  was  toward.  If  the  Spaniards  took  the  temple  there 
would  be  no  sacrifice.  No  sacrifice  could  be  offered  till  mid- 
day, so  Otomie  had  told  me,  and  that  was  not  for  hard  upon 
two  hours.  It  came  to  this  then,  if  the  Spaniards  were 
victorious  within  two  hours,  there  was  a  chance  of  life  for 
me,  if  not  I  must  die. 

Now  when  I  was  led  out  of  the  sanctuary  of  Tezcat,  I 
wondered  because  the  princess  Otomie,  or  rather  the  goddess 
Atla  as  she  was  then  called,  was  standing  among  the  chief 
priests  and  disputing  with  them,  for  I  had  seen  her  bow  her 
head  at  the  door  of  the  holy  place,  and  thought  that  it  was  in 
token  of  farewell,  seeing  that  she  was  the  last  of  the  four 
women  to  leave  me.  Of  what  she  disputed  I  could  not  hear 
because  of  the  din  of  battle,  but  the  argument  was  keen 
and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  priests  were  somewhat  dismayed 
at  her  words,  and  yet  had  a  fierce  joy  in  them.  It  appeared 
also  that  she  won  her  cause,  for  presently  they  bowed 
in  obeisance  to  her,  and  turning  slowly  she  swept  to  my 
side  with  a  peculiar  majesty  of  gait  that  even  then  I  noted. 
Glancing  up  at  her  face  also,  I  saw  that  it  was  alight  as  though 
with  a  great  and  holy  purpose,  and  moreover  that  she 
looked  like  some  happy  bride  passing  to  her  husband's 
arms. 

*  Why  are  you  not  gone,  Otomie  ? '  I  said.  '  Now  it  is  too 
late.  The  Spaniards  surround  the  teocalli  and  you  will  be 
killed  or  taken  prisoner.' 

'  I  await  the  end  whatever  it  may  be,'  she  answered 
briefly,  and  we  spoke  no  more  for  a  while,  but  watched  the 
progress  of  the  fray,  which  was  fierce  indeed.  Grimly  the 
Aztec  warriors  fought  before  the  symbols  of  their  gods,  and 
in  the  sight  of  the  vast  concourse  of  the  people  who  crowded 
the  square  beneath  and  stared  at  the  struggle  in  silence. 
They  hurled  themselves  upon  the  Spanish  swords,  they 
gripped  the  Spaniards  with  their  hands  and  screaming  with 
rage  dragged  them  to  the  steep  sides  of  the  roadway,  purpos 
ing  to  cast  them  over.  Sometimes  they  succeeded,  and  a  ball 
of  men  clinging  together  would  roll  down  the  slope  and  bo 
dashed  to  pieces  on  the  stone  flooring  of  the  courtyard,  a 
Spaniard  being  in  the  centre  of  the  ball.  But  do  what  they 
would,  like  some  vast  and  writhing  snake,  still  the  long  array  of 
Teules  clad  in  their  glittering  mail  ploughed  its  way  upward 
through  the  storm  of  spears  and  arrows.  Minute  by  minuto 
and  step  by  step  they  crept  on,  fighting  as  men  fight  who  know 


THE  KISS  OF  LOVE  169 

the  fate  that  awaits  the  desecrators  of  the  gods  of  Anahuac, 
fighting  for  life,  and  honour,  and  safety  from  the  stone  of 
sacrifice.  Thus  an  hour  went  by,  and  the  Spaniards  were 
half  way  up  the  pyramid.  Louder  and  louder  grew  the  fear- 
ful sounds  of  battle,  the  Spaniards  cheered  and  called  on 
their  patron  saints  to  aid  them,  the  Aztecs  yelled  like  wild 
beasts,  the  priests  screamed  invocations  to  their  gods  and  cries 
of  encouragement  to  the  warriors,  while  above  all  rose  the 
rattle  of  the  arquebusses,  the  roar  of  the  cannon,  and  the 
fearful  note  of  the  great  drum  of  snake's  skin  on  which  a  half- 
naked  priest  beat  madly.  Only  the  multitudes  below  never 
moved,  nor  shouted.  They  stood  silent  gazing  upward,  and  I 
could  see  the  sunlight  flash  on  the  thousands  of  their  staring 
eyes. 

Now  all  this  while  I  was  standing  near  the  stone  of 
sacrifice  with  Otomie  at  my  side.  Round  me  were  a  ring  of 
priests,  and  over  the  stone  was  fixed  a  square  of  black  cloth 
supported  upon  four  poles,  which  were  set  in  sockets  in  the 
pavement.  In  the  centre  of  this  black  cloth  was  sewn  a 
golden  funnel  measuring  six  inches  or  so  across  at  its 
mouth,  and  the  sunbeams  passing  through  this  funnel  fell  in 
a  bright  patch,  the  size  of  an  apple,  upon  the  space  of  pave- 
ment that  was  shaded  by  the  cloth.  As  the  sun  moved  in  the 
heavens,  so  did  this  ring  of  light  creep  across  the  shadow 
till  at  length  it  climbed  the  stone  of  sacrifice  and  lay  upon 
its  edge. 

Then  at  a  sign  from  the  head  priest,  his  ministers  laid 
hold  of  me  and  plucked  what  were  left  of  my  fine  clothes 
from  me  as  cruel  boys  pluck  a  living  bird,  till  I  stood  naked 
except  for  the  paint  upon  my  body  and  a  cloth  about  my 
loins.  Now  I  knew  that  my  hour  had  come,  and  strange  to 
tell,  for  the  first  time  this  day  courage  entered  into  me, 
and  I  rejoiced  to  think  that  soon  I  should  have  done  with 
my  tormentors.  Turning  to  Otomie  I  began  to  bid  her  fare- 
well in  a  clear  voice,  when  to  my  amaze  I  saw  that  as  I  had 
been  served  so  she  was  being  served,  for  her  splendid  robes  were 
torn  off  her  and  she  stood  before  me  arrayed  in  nothing  except 
her  beauty,  her  flowing  hair,  and  a  broidered  cotton  smock. 

'  Do  not  wonder,  Teule,'  she  said  in  a  low  voice,  answering 
the  question  my  tongue  refused  to  frame,  '  I  am  your  wife 
and  yonder  is  our  marriage  bed,  the  first  and  last.  Though 
you  do  not  love  me,  to-day  I  die  your  death  and  at  your 
side,  as  I  have  the  right  to  do.  I  could  not  save  you,  Teule, 
but  at  least  I  can  die  with  you.' 


170  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

At  the  moment  I  made  no  answer,  for  I  was  stricken  silent 
by  my  wonder,  and  before  I  could  find  my  tongue  the  priests 
had  cast  me  down,  and  for  the  second  time  I  lay  upon  the  stone 
of  doom.  As  they  held  me  a  yell  fiercer  and  longer  than 
any  which  had  gone  before,  told  that  the  Spaniards  had  got 
foot  upon  the  last  stair  of  the  ascent.  Scarcely  had  my  body 
been  set  upon  the  centre  of  the  great  stone,  when  that  of 
Otomie  was  laid  beside  it,  so  close  that  our  sides  touched,  for 
I  must  lie  in  the  middle  of  the  stone  and  there  was  no  great 
place  for  her.  Then  the  moment  of  sacrifice  not  being  come, 
the  priests  made  us  fast  with  cords  which  they  knotted  to 
copper  rings  in  the  pavement,  and  turned  to  watch  the  pro- 
gress of  the  fray. 

For  some  minutes  we  lay  thus  side  by  side,  and  as  we  lay 
a  great  wonder  and  gratitude  grew  in  my  heart,  wonder  that 
a  woman  could  be  so  brave,  gratitude  for  the  love  she  gave 
me,  sealing  it  with  her  life-blood.  Because  Otomie  loved  me 
she  had  chosen  this  fearful  death,  because  she  loved  me  so 
well  that  she  desired  to  die  thus  at  my  side  rather  than  tc 
live  on  in  greatness  and  honour  without  me.  Of  a  sudden, 
in  a  moment  while  I  thought  of  this  marvel,  a  new  lighi 
shone  upon  my  heart  and  it  was  changed  towards  her.  ] 
felt  that  no  woman,  could  ever  be  so  dear  to  me  as  thie 
glorious  woman,  no,  not  even  my  betrothed.  I  felt — nay,  who 
can  say  what  I  did  feel  ?  But  I  know  this,  that  the  tean; 
rushed  to  my  eyes  and  ran  down  my  painted  face,  and  I  turned 
my  head  to  look  at  her.  She  was  lying  as  much  upon  he:* 
left  side  as  her  bands  would  allow,  her  long  hair  fell  from  tho 
stone  to  the  paving  where  it  Lay  in  masses,  and  her  face  wa:3 
towards  me.  So  close  was  it  indeed  that  there  was  not  an 
inch  between  our  lips. 

'  Otomie,'  I  whispered, ' listen  to  me.  I  love  you,  Otomie.' 
Now  I  saw  her  breast  heave  beneath  the  bands  and  the  colour 
come  upon  her  brow. 

'Then  I  am  repaid,'  she  answered,  and  our  lips  clun;* 
together  in  a  kiss,  the  first,  and  as  we  thought  the  last.  Yes, 
there  we  kissed,  on  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  beneath  the  knife  of 
the  priest  and  the  shadow  of  death,  and  if  there  has  been  a 
stranger  love  scene  in  the  world,  I  have  never  heard  its  story. 

'  Oh  !  I  am  repaid,'  she  said  again  ;  '  I  would  gladly  die  a 
score  of  deaths  to  win  this  moment,  indeed  I  pray  that  I  may 
die  before  you  take  back  your  words.  For,  Teule,  I  know 
well  that  there  is  one  who  is  dearer  to  you  than  I  am,  but  no  v 
your  heart  is  softened  by  the  faithfulness  of  an  Indian  girl, 


\ 


THE   KISS   OF  LOVE  171 

and  you  think  that  you  love  her.  Let  me  die  then  believing 
that  the  dream  is  true.' 

'  Talk  not  so,'  I  answered  heavily,  for  even  at  that  moment 
the  memory  of  Lily  came  into  my  mind.  '  You  give  your  life 
for  me  and  I  love  you  for  it.' 

'  My  life  is  nothing  and  your  love  is  much,'  she  answered 
smiling.  *  Ah !  Teule,  what  magic  have  you  that  you  can 
bring  me,  Montezuma's  daughter,  to  the  altar  of  the  gods  and 
of  my  own  free  will  ?  Well,  I  desire  no  softer  bed,  and  for 
the  why  and  wherefore  it  will  soon  be  known  by  both  of  us, 
and  with  it  many  other  things.' 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE    TRIUMPH    OF   THE    CROSS 

'  OTOMIE,'  I  said  presently,  '  when  will  they  kill  us  ?  ' 

*  When  the  point  of  light  lies  within  the  ring  that  is  painted 
over  your  heart,'  she  answered. 

Now  I  turned  my  head  from  her,  and  looked  at  the  sun- 
beam which  pierced  the  shadow  above  us  like  a  golden  pencil. 
It  rested  at  my  side  about  six  inches  from  me,  and  I  reck- 
oned that  it  would  lie  in  the  scarlet  ring  painted  upon  my 
breast  within  some  fifteen  minutes.  Meanwhile  the  clamour  of 
battle  grew  louder  and  nearer.  Shifting  myself  so  far  as  the 
cords  would  allow,  I  strained  my  head  upwards  and  saw  that 
the  Spaniards  had  gained  the  crest  of  the  pyramid,  since  the 
battle  now  raged  upon  its  edge,  and  I  have  rarely  seen  so 
terrible  a  fight,  for  the  Aztecs  fought  with  the  fury  of  despair, 
thinking  little  of  their  own  lives  if  they  could  only  bring  a 
Spaniard  to  his  death.  But  for  the  most  part  their  rude 
weapons  would  not  pierce  the  coats  of  mail,  so  that  there 
remained  only  one  way  to  compass  their  desire,  namely,  by 
casting  the  white  men  over  the  edge  of  the  teocalli  to  be 
crushed  like  eggshells  upon  the  pavement  two  hundred  feet 
below.  Thus  the  fray  broke  itself  up  into  groups  of  foes  who 
rent  and  tore  at  each  other  upon  the  brink  of  the  pyramid,  now 
and  again  to  vanish  down  its  side,  ten  or  twelve  of  them  to- 
gether. Some  of  the  priests  also  joined  in  the  fight,  thinking 
less  of  their  own  deaths  than  of  the  desecration  of  their  temples, 
for  I  saw  one  of  them,  a  man  of  huge  strength  and  stature, 
seize  a  Spanish  soldier  round  the  middle  and  leap  with  him 
into  space.  Still,  though  very  slowly,  the  Spaniards  ancl 


172  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

Tlascalans  forced  their  way  towards  the  centre  of  the  platform, 
and  as  they  came  the  danger  01  this  dreadful  end  grew  less, 
for  the  Aztecs  must  drag  them  further. 

Now  the  fight  drew  near  to  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  and  all 
who  remained  alive  of  the  Aztecs,  perhaps  some  two  hundred 
and  fifty  of  them,  besides  the  priests,  ringed  themselves  round 
us  and  it  in  a  circle.  Also  the  outer  rim  of  the  sunbeam  that 
fell  through  the  golden  funnel,  creeping  on  remorselessly, 
touched  my  painted  side  which  it  seemed  to  burn  as  hot  iron 
might,  for  alas,  I  could  not  command  the  sun  to  stand  still 
while  the  battle  raged,  as  did  Joshua  in  the  valley  of  Ajalon. 
When  it  touched  me,  five  priests  seized  my  limbs  and  head, 
and  the  father  of  them,  he  who  had  conducted  me  from  the 
palace,  clasped  his  flint  knife  in  both  hands.  Now  a  deathly 
sickness  took  me  and  I  shut  my  eyes  dreaming  that  all  was 
done,  but  at  that  moment  I  heard  a  wild-eyed  man,  the  chief 
of  the  astronomers  whom  I  had  noted  standing  by,  call  out 
to  the  minister  of  death  : 

1  Not  yet,  0  priest  of  Tezcat !  If  you  smite  before  the  sun- 
beam lies  upon  the  victim's  heart,  your  gods  are  doomed  and 
doomed  are  the  people  of  Anahuac.' 

The  priest  gnashed  his  teeth  with  rage,  and  glared  first  at 
the  creeping  point  of  light  and  then  over  his  shoulder  at 
the  advancing  battle.  Slowly  the  ring  of  warriors  closed  in 
upon  us,  slowly  the  golden  ray  crept  up  my  breast  till  its 
outer  rim  touched  the  red  circle  painted  upon  my  heart.  Again 
the  priest  heaved  up  his  awful  knife,  again  I  shut  my  eyes, 
and  again  I  heard  the  shrill  scream  of  the  astronomer,  *  Not 
yet,  not  yet,  or  your  gods  are  doomed  ! ' 

Then  I  heard  another  sound.  It  was  the  voice  of  Otomie 
crying  for  help. 

*  Save  us,  Teules  ;  they  murder  us  !  '  she  shrieked  in  so 
piercing  a  note  that  it  reached  the  ears  of  the  Spaniards,  for 
one  shouted  in  answer  and  in  the  Castilian  tongue,  *  On,  my 
comrades,  on  !     The  dogs  do  murder  on  their  altars  ! ' 

Then  there  was  a  mighty  rush  and  the  defending 
Aztecs  were  swept  in  upon  the  altar,  lifting  the  priest  ol' 
sacrifice  from  his  feet  and  throwing  him  across  my  body 
Thrice  that  rush  came  like  a  rush  of-  the  sea,  and  each  time 
the  stand  of  the  Aztecs  weakened.  Now  their  circle  wajs 
broken  and  the  swords  of  the  Spaniards  flashed  up  on  ever} 
side,  and  now  the  red  ray  lay  within  the  ring  upon  my  heart 

*  Smite,   priest   of  Tezcat,'   screamed   the   voice   of   tht> 
astronomer ;  '  smite  home  for  the  glory  of  your  gods  !  ' 


V 


THE   TRIUMPH  OF  THE   CROSS  173 

With  a  fearful  yell  the  priest  lifted  the  knife ;  I  saw  the 
golden  sunbeam  that  rested  full  upon  my  heart  shine  on  it. 
Then  as  it  was  descending  I  saw  the  same  sunbeam  shine 
upon  a  yard  of  steel  that  Hashed  across  me  and  lost  itself  in 
the  breast  of  the  murderer  priest.  Down  came  the  great  flint 
knife,  but  its  aim  was  lost.  It  struck  indeed,  but  not  upon 
my  bosom,  though  I  did  not  escape  it  altogether.  Full  upon 
the  altar  of  sacrifice  it  fell  and  was  shattered  there,  pierc- 
ing between  my  side  and  that  of  Otomie,  and  gashing  the 
flesh  of  both  so  that  our  blood  was  mingled  upon  the  stone, 
making  us  one  indeed.  Down  too  came  the  priest  across  our 
bodies  for  the  second  time,  but  to  rise  no  more,  for  he  writhed 
dying  on  those  whom  he  would  have  slain. 

Then  as  in  a  dream  I  heard  the  wail  of  the  astronomer 
singing  the  dirge  of  the  gods  of  Anahuac. 

*  The  priest  is  dead  and  his  gods  are  fallen,'  he  cried. 
*  Tezcat  has  rejected  his  victim  and  is  fallen  ;  doomed  are  the 
gods  of  Anahuac !  Victory  is  to  the  Cross  of  the  Christians  ! ' 

Thus  he  wailed,  then  came  the  sound  of  sword  blows 
and  I  knew  that  this  prophet  was  dead  also. 

Now  a  strong  arm  pulled  the  dying  priest  from  off  us,  and 
'he  staggered  back  till  he  fell  over  the  altar  where  the  eternal 
fire  burned,  quenching  it  with  his  blood  and  body  after  it  had 
flared  for  many  generations,  and  a  knife  cut  the  rope  that 
bound  us. 

I  sat  up  staring  round  me  wildly,  and  a  voice  spoke  above 
me  in  Castilian,  not  to  me  indeed  but  to  some  comrade. 

*  These  two  went  near  to  it,  poor  devils,'  said  the  voice. 
Had  my  cut  been   one   second   later,   that   savage   would 

have  drilled  a  hole  in  him  as  big  as  my  head.  By  all  the 
saints !  the  girl  is  lovely,  or  would  be  if  she  were  washed. 
I  shall  beg  her  of  Cortes  as  my  prize.' 

The  voice  spoke  and  I  knew  the  voice.  None  other  ever 
had  that  hard  clear  ring.  I  knew  it  even  then  and  looked  up, 
slipping  off  the  death- stone  as  I  looked.  Now  I  saw.  Before 
me  fully  clad  in  mail  was  my  enemy,  de  Garcia.  It  was  his 
sword  that  by  the  good  providence  of  God  had  pierced  the 
breast  of  the  priest.  He  had  saved  me  who,  had  he  known, 
would  as  soon  have  turned  his  steel  against  his  own  heart 
as  on  that  of  my  destroyer. 

I  gazed  at  him,  wondering  if  I  dreamed,  then  my  lips 
spoke,  without  my  will  as  it  were  : 

'  De  Garcia  ! ' 

He  staggered  back  at  the  sound  of  my  voice,  like  a  man 


174  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

struck  by  a  shot,  then  stared  at  me,  rubbed  his  eyes  with  his 
hand,  and  stared  again.  Now  at  length  he  knew  me  through 
my  paint. 

'  Mother  of  God ! '  he  gasped,  '  it  is  that  knave  Thomas 
Wingfield,  and  I  have  saved  his  life ! ' 

By  this  time  my  senses  had  come  back  to  me,  and  knowing 
all  my  folly,  I  turned  seeking  escape.  But  de  Garcia  had  no 
mind  to  suffer  this.  Lifting  his  sword,  he  sprang  at  me  with 
a  beastlike  scream  of  rage  and  hate.  Swiftly  as  thought  I 
slipped  round  the  stone  of  sacrifice  and  after  me  came  the  up- 
lifted sword  of  my  enemy.  It  would  have  overtaken  me  soon 
enough,  for  I  was  weak  with  fear  and  fasting,  and  my  limbs 
were  cramped  with  bonds,  but  at  that  moment  a  cavalier 
whom  by  his  dress  and  port  I  guessed  to  be  none  other  than 
Cortes  himself,  struck  up  de  Garcia's  sword,  saying : 

'  How  now,  Sarceda  ?  Are  you  mad  with  the  lust  of  blood 
that  you  would  take  to  sacrificing  victims  like  an  Indian  priest  ? 
Let  the  poor  devil  go.' 

i  He  is  no  Indian,  he  is  an  English  spy,'  cried  de  Garcia, 
and  once  more  struggled  to  get  at  me. 

'  Decidedly  our  friend  is  mad,'  said  Cortes,  scanning  me  ; 
'  he  says  that  this  wretched  creature  is  an  Englishman.  Come, 
be  off  both  of  you,  or  somebody  else  may  make  the  same 
mistake,'  and  he  waved  his  sword  in  token  to  us  to  go,  deem- 
ing that  I  could  not  understand  his  words  ;  then  added  angrily 
as  de  Garcia,  speechless  with  rage,  made  a  new  attempt  to 
get  at  me  : 

'  No,  by  heaven  !  I  will  not  suffer  it.  We  are  Christiana 
and  come  to  save  victims,  not  to  slay  them.  Here,  comrades, 
hold  this  fool  who  would  stain  his  soul  with  murder.' 

Now  the  Spaniards  clutched  de  Garcia  by  the  arms,  and 
he  cursed  and  raved  at  them,  for  as  I  have  said,  his  rage  was 
that  of  a  beast  rather  than  of  a  man.  But  I  stood  bewildered, 
not  knowing  whither  to  fly.  Fortunate  it  was  for  me  indeed 
that  one  was  by  who  though  she  understood  no  Spanish,  yet 
had  a  quicker  wit.  For  while  I  stood  thus,  Otomie  clasped 
my  hand,  and  whispering, '  Fly,  fly  swiftly  ! '  led  me  away  from 
the  stone  of  sacrifice. 

'  Whither  shall  we  go  ?  '  I  said  at  length.  '  Were  it  not 
better  to  trust  to  the  mercy  of  the  Spaniards  ? ' 

'  To  the  mercy  of  that  man-devil  with  the  sword  ? '  sl.e 
answered.  *  Peace,  Teule,  and  follow  me.' 

Now  she  led  me  on,  and  the  Spaniards  let  us  by  unharmed, 
ay,  and  even  spoke  words  of  pity  as  we  passed,  for  they  kne  x 


V 


A  yard  of  steel  flashed  across  me,  and  lost  it  sell  in  the  breast 
of  the  murderer  priest. 


THE   TRIUMPH  OF  THE  CROSS  175 

that  we  were  victims  snatched  from  sacrifice.  Indeed,  when 
a  certain  brute,  a  Tlascalan  Indian,  rushed  at  us,  purposing 
to  slay  us  with  a  club,  one  of  the  Spaniards  ran  him  through 
the  shoulder  so  that  he  fell  wounded  to  the  pavement. 

So  we  went  on,  and  at  the  edge  of  the  pyramid  we  glanced 
back  and  saw  that  de  Garcia  had  broken  from  those  who  held 
him,  or  perhaps  he  found  his  tongue  and  had  explained  the 
truth  to  them.  At  the  least  he  was  bounding  from  the  altar  of 
sacrifice  nearly  fifty  yards  away,  and  coming  towards  us  with 
uplifted  sword.  Then  fear  gave  us  strength,  and  we  fled  like 
the  wind.  Along  the  steep  path  we  rushed  side  by  side, 
leaping  down  the  steps  and  over  the  hundreds  of  dead  and 
dying,  only  pausing  now  and  again  to  save  ourselves  from 
being  smitten  into  space  by  the  bodies  of  the  priests  whom 
the  Spaniards  were  hurling  from  the  crest  of  the  teocalli. 
Once  looking  up,  I  caught  sight  of  de  Garcia  pursuing 
far  above  us,  but  after  that  we  saw  him  no  more  ;  doubtless 
he  wearied  of  the  chase,  or  feared  to  fall  into  the  hands  of 
such  of  the  Aztec  warriors  as  still  clustered  round  the  foot 
of  the  pyramid. 

We  had  lived  through  many  dangers  that  day,  the  princess 
Otomie  and  I,  but  one  more  awaited  us  before  ever  we  found 
shelter  for  awhile.  After  we  had  reached  the  foot  of  the 
pyramid  and  turned  to  mingle  with  the  terrified  rabble  that 
surged  and  flowed  through  the  courtyard  of  the  temple,  bearing 
away  the  dead  and  wounded  as  the  sea  at  flood  reclaims 
its  waste  and  wreckage,  a  noise  like  thunder  caught  my 
ear.  I  looked  up,  for  the  sound  came  from  above,  and  saw  a 
huge  mass  bounding  down  the  steep  side  of  the  pyramid. 
Even  then  I  knew  it  again  ;  it  was  the  idol  of  the  god  Tezcat 
that  the  Spaniards  had  torn  from  its  shrine,  and  like  an 
avenging  demon  it  rushed  straight  on  to  me.  Already  it  was 
upon  us,  there  was  no  retreat  from  instant  death,  we  had  but 
escaped  sacrifice  to  the  spirit  of  the  god  to  be  crushed  to 
powder  beneath  the  bulk  of  his  marble  emblem.  On  he  came 
while  on  high  the  Spaniards  shouted  in  triumph.  His  base 
had  struck  the  stone  side  of  the  pyramid  fifty  feet  above  us,  now 
he  whirled  round  and  round  in  the  air  to  strike  again  within 
three  paces  of  where  we  stood.  I  felt  the  solid  mountain 
shake  beneath  the  blow,  and  next  instant  the  air  was  filled 
with  huge  fragments  of  marble,  that  whizzed  over  us  and 
past  us  as  though  a  mine  of  powder  had  been  fired  beneath 
our  feet,  tearing  the  rocks  from  their  base.  The  god  Tezcat 
had  burst  into  a  score  of  pieces,  and  these  fell  round  us  like 


176  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

a  flight  of  arrows,  and  yet  we  were  not  touched.  My  head 
was  grazed  by  his  head,  his  feet  dug  a  pit  before  my  feet,  but 
I  stood  there  unhurt,  the  false  god  had  no  power  over  the 
victim  who  had  escaped  him  ! 

After  that  I  remember  nothing  till  I  found  myself  once 
more  in  my  apartments  in  Montezuma's  palace,  which  I  never 
hoped  to  see  again.  Otomie  was  by  me,  and  she  brought  me 
water  to  wash  the  paint  from  my  body  and  the  blood  from 
my  wound,  which,  leaving  her  own  untended,  she  dressed 
skilfully,  for  the  cut  of  the  priest's  knife  was  deep  and  I  had 
bled  much.  Also  she  clothed  herself  afresh  in  a  white  robe 
and  brought  me  raiment  to  wear,  with  food  and  drink,  and  I 
partook  of  them.  Then  I  bade  her  eat  something  herself, 
and  when  she  had  done  so  I  gathered  my  wits  together  and 
spoke  to  her. 

'  What  next  ?  '  I  said.  '  Presently  the  priests  will  be  on 
us,  and  we  shall  be  dragged  back  to  sacrifice.  There  is  no 
hope  for  me  here,  I  must  fly  to  the  Spaniards  and  trust  to 
their  mercy.' 

'  To  the  mercy  of  that  man  with  the  sword  ?  Say,  Teule, 
who  is  he  ?  ' 

'He  is  that  Spaniard  of  whom  I  have  spoken  to  you, 
Otomie  ;  he  is  my  mortal  enemy  whom  I  have  followed  across 
the  seas.' 

'  And  now  you  would  put  yourself  into  his  power.  Truly, 
you  are  foolish,  Teule.' 

'  It  is  better  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Christian  men  than 
into  those  of  your  priests,'  I  answered. 

'  Have  no  fear,'  she  said  ;  '  the  priests  are  harmless  for  you. 
You  have  escaped  them  and  there's  an  end.  Few  have  ever 
come  alive  from  their  clutches  before,  and  he  who  does  so  is  a 
wizard  indeed.  For  the  rest  I  think  that  your  God  is  stronger 
than  our  gods,  for  surely  He  must  have  cast  His  mantle  over 
us  when  we  lay  yonder  on  the  stone.  Ah !  Teule,  to  what 
have  you  brought  me  that  I  should  live  to  doubt  my  gods, 
ay,  and  to  call  upon  the  foes  of  my  country  for  succour  in 
your  need.  Believe  me,  I  had  not  done  it  for  my  own  sake, 
since  I  would  have  died  with  your  kiss  upon  my  lips  and 
your  word  of  love  echoing  in  my  ears,  who  now  must  live 
knowing  that  these  joys  have  passed  from  me.' 

1  How  so  ?  '  I  answered.  '  What  I  have  said,  I  have  said 
Otomie,  you  would  have  died  with  me,  and  you  saved  my  lift 
by  your  wit  in  calling  on  the  Spaniards.  Henceforth  it  if, 
yours,  for  there  is  no  other  woman  in  the  world  so  tende:1 


7  HE   TRIUMPH  OF  THE  CROSS  177 

and  so  brave,  and  I  say  it  again,  Otomie,  my  wife,  I  love  you. 
Our  blood  has  mingled  on  the  stone  of  sacrifice  and  there  we 
kissed ;  let  these  be  our  marriage  rites.  Perhaps  I  have  not 
long  to  live,  but  till  I  die  I  am  yours,  Otomie  my  wife.' 

Thus  I  spoke  from  the  fulness  of  my  heart,  for  my  strength 
and  courage  were  shattered,  horror  and  loneliness  had  taken 
hold  of  me.  But  two  things  were  left  to  me  in  the  world,  my 
trust  in  Providence  and  the  love  of  this  woman,  who  had 
dared  so  much  for  me.  Therefore  I  forgot  my  troth  and  clung 
to  her  as  a  child  clings  to  its  mother.  Doubtless  it  was 
wrong,  but  I  will  be  bold  to  say  that  few  men  so  placed  would 
have  acted  otherwise.  Moreover,  I  could  not  take  back  the 
fateful  words  that  I  had  spoken  on  the  stone  of  sacrifice. 
When  I  said  them  I  was  expecting  death  indeed,  but  to  re- 
nounce them  now  that  its  shadow  was  lifted  from  me,  if  only 
for  a  little  while,  would  have  been  the  act  of  a  coward.  For 
good  or  evil  I  had  given  myself  to  Montezuma's  daughter,  and 
I  must  abide  by  it  or  be  shamed.  Still  such  was  the  nobleness 
of  this  Indian  lady  that  even  then  she  would  not  take  me 
at  my  word.  For  a  little  while  she  stood  smiling  sadly  and 
drawing  a  lock  of  her  long  hair  through  the  hollow  of  her 
hand.  Then  she  spoke  : 

'You  are  not  yourself,  Teule,  and  I  should  be  base 
indeed  if  I  made  so  solemn  a  compact  with  one  who  does  not 
know  what  he  sells.  Yonder  on  the  altar  and  in  a  moment  of 
death  you  said  that  you  loved  me,  and  doubtless  it  was  true. 
But  now  you  have  come  back  to  life,  and  say,  lord,  who  set 
that  golden  ring  upon  your  hand  and  what  is  written  in  its 
circle  ?  Yet  even  if  the  words  are  true  that  you  have  spoken 
and  you  love  me  a  little,  there  is  one  across  the  sea  whom 
you  love  better.  That  I  could  bear,  for  my  heart  is  fixed 
on  you  alone  among  men,  and  at  the  least  you  would  be  kind 
to  me,  and  I  should  move  in  the  sunlight  of  your  presence. 
But  having  known  the  light,  I  cannot  live  to  wander  in  the 
darkness.  You  do  not  understand.  I  will  tell  you  what  I  fear. 
I  fear  that  if — if  we  were  wed,  you  would  weary  of  me  as  men 
do,  and  that  memory  would  grow  too  strong  for  you.  Then 
by  and  by  it  might  be  possible  for  you  to  find  your  way  back 
across  the  waters  to  your  own  land  and  your  own  love,  and 
so  you  would  desert  me,  Teule.  This  is  what  I  could  not  bear, 
Teule.  I  can  forego  you  now,  ay,  and  remain  your  friend. 
But  I  cannot  be  put  aside  like  a  dancing  girl,  the  companion 
of  a  month,  I,  Montezuma's  daughter,  a  lady  of  my  own 
land.  Should  you  wed  me,  it  must  be  for  my  life,  Teule,  and 

N 


i ;8  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

that  is  perhaps  more  than  you  would  wish  to  promise,  though 
you  could  kiss  me  on  yonder  stone  and  there  is  blood  fellow- 
ship between  us,'  and  she  glanced  at  the  red  stain  in  the 
linen  robe  that  covered  the  wound  upon  her  side. 

'  And  now,  Teule,  I  leave  you  a  while,  that  I  may  find 
Guatemoc,  if  he  still  lives,  and  others  who,  now  that  the 
strength  of  the  priests  is  shattered,  have  power  to  protect  you 
and  advance  you  to  honour.  Think  then  on  all  that  I  have 
said,  and  do  not  be  hasty  to  decide.  Or  would  you  make  an 
end  at  once  and  fly  to  the  white  men  if  I  can  find  a  means 
of  escape  ?  ' 

1 1  am  too  weary  to  fly  anywhere,'  I  answered,  '  even  if  I 
could.  Moreover,  I  forget.  My  enemy  is  among  the  Spa- 
niards, he  whom  I  have  sworn  to  kill,  therefore  his  friends  are 
my  foes  and  his  foes  my  friends.  I  will  not  fly,  Otomie.' 

1  There  you  are  wise,'  she  said,  '  for  if  you  come  among  the 
Teules  that  man  will  murder  you ;  by  fair  means  or  foul  he 
will  murder  you  within  a  day,  I  saw  it  in  his  eyes.  Now  rest 
while  I  seek  your  safety,  if  there  is  any  safety  in  this  blood- 
stained land.' 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THOMAS     IS     MARRIED 

OTOMIE  turned  and  went.  I  watched  the  golden  curtains 
close  behind  her;  then  I  sank  back  upon  the  couch  and 
instantly  was  lost  in  sleep,  for  I  was  faint  and  weak,  and  so 
dazed  with  weariness,  that  at  the  time  I  scarcely  knew  what 
had  happened,  or  the  purpose  of  our  talk.  Afterwards,  how- 
ever, it  came  back  to  me.  I  must  have  slept  for  many  hours, 
for  when  I  awoke  it  was  far  on  into  the  night.  It  was  night 
but  not  dark,  for  through  the  barred  window  places  came  the 
sound  of  tumult  and  fighting,  and  red  rays  of  light  cast  by  the 
flames  of  burning  houses.  One  of  these  windows  was  above 
my  couch,  and  standing  on  the  bed  I  seized  the  sill  with  my 
hands.  With  much  pain,  because  of  the  flesh  wound  in  my 
side,  I  drew  myself  up  till  I  could  look  through  the  bars.  Then 
I  saw  that  the  Spaniards,  not  content  with  the  capture  of  the 
teocalli,  had  made  a  night  attack  and  set  fire  to  hundreds  oi 
houses  in  the  city.  The  glare  of  the  flames  was  that  of  a  lurid 
day,  and  by  it  I  could  see  the  white  men  retreating  to  their 
quarters,  pursued  by  thousands  of  Aztecs,  who  hung  upon  their 
flanks,  shooting  at  them  with  stones  and  arrows. 


\i 


THOMAS  IS  MARRIED  179 

Now  I  dropped  down  from  the  window  place  and  began  to 
think  as  to  what  I  should  do,  for  again  my  mind  was  wavering. 
Should  I  desert  Otomie  and  escape  to  the  Spaniards  if  that  were 
possible,  taking  my  chance  of  death  at  the  hands  of  do  Garcia  ? 
Or  should  I  stay  among  the  Aztecs  if  they  would  give  me 
shelter,  and  wed  Otomie  ?  There  was  a  third  choice,  indeed, 
to  stay  with  them  and  leave  Otomie  alone,  though  it  would  be 
difficult  to  do  this  and  keep  my  honour.  One  thing  I  under- 
stood, if  I  married  Otomie  it  must  be  at  her  own  price, 
for  then  I  must  become  an  Indian  and  give  over  all  hope 
of  returning  to  England  and  to  my  betrothed.  Of  this, 
indeed,  there  was  little  chance,  still,  while  my  life  remained 
to  me,  it  might  come  about  if  I  was  free.  But  once  my  hands 
were  tied  by  this  marriage  it  could  never  be  during  Otomie's 
lifetime,  and  so  far  as  Lily  Bozard  was  concerned  I  should  be 
dead.  How  could  I  be  thus  faithless  to  her  memory  and  my 
troth,  and  on  the  other  hand,  how  could  I  discard  the  woman 
who  had  risked  all  for  me,  and  who,  to  speak  truth,  had 
grown  so  dear  to  me,  though  there  was  one  yet  dearer  ?  A 
hero  or  an  angel  might  find  a  path  out  of  this  tangle,  but 
alas  !  I  was  neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  only  a  man  afflicted 
as  other  men  are  with  human  weakness,  and  Otomie  was  at 
hand,  and  very  sweet  and  fair.  Still,  almost  I  determined 
that  I  would  avail  myself  of  her  nobleness,  that  I  would  go 
back  upon  my  words,  and  beg  her  to  despise  me  and  see  me 
no  more,  in  order  that  I  might  not  be  forced  to  break  the 
troth  that  I  had  pledged  beneath  the  beech  at  Ditchingham. 
For  I  greatly  dreaded  this  oath  of  life-long  fidelity  which  I 
should  be  forced  to  swear  if  I  chose  any  other  path. 

Thus  I  thought  on  in  pitiable  confusion  of  mind,  not 
knowing  that  all  these  matters  were  beyond  my  ordering, 
since  a  path  was  already  made  ready  to  my  feet,  which  I 
must  follow  or  die.  And  let  this  be  a  proof  of  the  honesty  of 
my  words,  since,  had  I  been  desirous  of  glozing  the  truth,  I 
need  have  written  nothing  of  these  struggles  of  conscience, 
and  of  my  own  weakness.  For  soon  it  was  to  come  to  this, 
though  not  by  her  will,  that  I  must  either  wed  Otomie  or  die 
at  once,  and  few  would  blame  me  for  doing  the  first  and  not  the 
last.  Indeed,  though  I  did  wed  her,  I  might  still  have  declared 
myself  to  my  affianced  and  to  all  the  world  as  a  slave  of  events 
from  which  there  was  no  escape.  But  it  is  not  all  the  truth, 
since  my  mind  was  divided,  and  had  it  not  been  settled  for 
me,  I  cannot  say  how  the  struggle  would  have  ended. 

Now,  looking  back  on  the  distant  past,  and  weighing  my 


i8o  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

actions  and  character  as  a  judge  might  do,  I  can  see,  however, 
that  had  I  found  time  to  consider,  there  was  another  matter 
which  would  surely  have  turned  the  scale  in  favour  of  Otomie. 
De  Garcia  was  among  the  Spaniards,  and  my  hatred  of 
de  Garcia  was  the  ruling  passion  of  my  life,  a  stronger  passion 
even  than  my  love  for  the  two  dear  women  who  have  been  its 
joy.  Indeed,  though  he  is  dead  these  many  years  I  still  hate 
him,  and  evil  though  the  desire  be,  even  in  my  age  I  long  that 
my  vengeance  was  still  to  wreak.  While  I  remained  among 
the  Aztecs  de  Garcia  would  be  their  enemy  and  mine,  and 
I  might  meet  him  in  war  and  kill  him  there.  But  if  I 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  Spanish  camp,  then  it  was  almost 
sure  that  he  would  bring  about  my  instant  death.  Doubt- 
less he  had  told  such  a  tale  of  me  already,  that  within 
an  hour  I  should  be  hung  as  a  spy,  or  otherwise  made  away 
with. 

But  I  will  cease  from  these  unprofitable  wonderings  which 
have  but  one  value,  that  of  setting  out  my  strange  necessity 
of  choice  between  an  absent  and  a  present  love,  and  go  on 
wdth  the  story  of  an  event  in  which  there  was  no  room  to 
balance  scruples. 

While  I  sat  musing  on  the  couch  the  curtain  was  drawn, 
and  a  man  entered  bearing  a  torch.  It  was  Guatemoc  as  he 
had  come  from  the  fray,  which,  except  for  its  harvest  of  burn- 
ing houses,  was  finished  for  that  night.  The  plumes  were 
shorn  from  his  head,  his  golden  armour  was  hacked  by  the 
Spanish  swords,  and  he  bled  from  a  shot  wound  in  the  neck. 

'  Greeting,  Teule,'  he  said.  *  Certainly  I  never  thought  to 
see  you  alive  to-night,  or  myself  either  for  that  matter.  But 
it  is  a  strange  world,  and  now,  if  never  before  in  Tenoctitlan, 
those  things  happen  for  which  we  look  the  least.  But  I  have 
no  time  for  words.  I  came  to  summon  you  before  the  council.' 

'  What  is  to  be  my  fate  ?  '  I  asked.  '  To  be  dragged  back 
to  the  stone  of  sacrifice  ?  ' 

*  Nay,  have  no  fear  of  that.  But  for  the  rest  I  cannot  say. 
In  an  hour  you  may  be  dead  or  great  among  us,  if  any  of  us 
can  be  called  great  in  these  days  of  shame.  Otomie  has 
worked  well  for  you  among  the  princes  and  the  counsellors, 
so  she  says,  and  if  you  have  a  heart,  you  should  be  grateful 
to  her,  for  it  seems  to  me  that  few  women  have  loved  a  man 
so  much.  As  for  me,  I  have  been  employed  elsewhere,'  and 
he  glanced  at  his  rent  armour,  '  but  I  will  lift  up  my  voice  for 
you.  Now  come,  .friend,  for  the  torch  burns  low.  By  this 


THOMAS  IS  MARRIED  181 

time  you  must  be  well  seasoned  in  dangers  ;  one  more  or  less 
will  matter  as  little  to  you  as  to  me.' 

Then  I  rose  and  followed  him  into  the  great  cedar-panelled 
hall,  where  that  very  morning  I  had  received  adoration  as  a 
god.  Now  I  was  a  god  no  longer,  but  a  prisoner  on  trial  fojr 
his  life.  Upon  the  dais  where  I  had  stood  in  the  hour  of  my 
godhead  were  gathered  those  of  the  princes  and  counsellors 
who  were  left  alive.  Some  of  them,  like  Guatemoc,  w»  iv  c -lad 
in  rent  and  bloody  mail,  others  in  their  customary  dress,  ;md 
one  in  a  priest's  robe.  They  had  only  two  things  in  common 
among  them,  the  sternness  of  their  faces  and  tin  greatness 
of  their  rank,  and  they  sat  there  this  night  not  to  <l« •« -ide.  my 
fate,  which  was  but  a  little  thing,  but  to  take  counsel  as  to 
how  they  might  expel  thu  Spaniards  before  the  city  was 
destroyed. 

When  I  entered,  a 'man  in  mail,  who  sat  in  the  centre  of 
the  half  circle,  and  in  whom  I  knew  Cuitlahua,  who  would  be 
emperor  should  Montc/.unm  die,  looked  uj>  «niickly  and  said  : 

4  Who  is  this,  Guatemoc,  that  you  bring  with  you  ?  Ah  ! 
I  remember ;  the  Teule  that  was  the  god  Tezcat,  and  who 
escaped  the  sacrifice  to-day.  Listen,  nobles.  What  is  to  be 
done  with  this  man  ?  Say,  is  it  lawful  that  he  be  led  back  to 
sacrifice  ? ' 

Then  the  priest  answered :  '  I  grieve  to  say  that  it  is 
not  lawful,  most  noble  prince.  This  man  has  lain  on  the 
ultar  of  the  god,  he  has  even  been  wounded  by  the  holy  knife. 
But  the  god  rejected  him  in  a  fateful  hour,  and  he  must 
lie  there  no  more.  Slay  him  if  you  will,  but  not  upon  the 
stone  of  sacrifice.' 

*  What  then  shall  be  done  with  him  ?  '  said  the  prince  again. 

*  He  is  of  the  blood  of  the  Teules,  and  therefore  an  enemy. 
One  thing  is  certain  ;  he  must  not  be  suffered  to  join  the  white 
devils  and  give  them  tidings  of  our  distresses.     Is  it  not  best 
that  he  be  put  away  forthwith  ?  ' 

Now  several  of  the  council  nodded  th«ir  heads,  but  others 
sat  silent,  making  no  sign. 

*  Come,'  said  Cuitlahua,  '  we  have  no  time  to  waste  over 
this  man  when  the  lives  of  thousands  are  hourly  at  stake. 
The  question  is,  Shall  the  Teule  be  slain  ? ' 

Then  Guatemoc  rose  and  spoke,  saying  :  '  Your  pardon, 
noLlc  kinsman,  but  I  hold  that  we  may  put  this  prisoner  to 
better  use  than  to  kill  him.  I  know  him  well ;  he  is  brave 
and  loyal,  as  I  have  proved,  moreover,  he  is  not  all  a 
Teule,  but  half  of  another  race  that  hates  them  as  he  hates 


182  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

them.  Also  he  has  knowledge  of  their  customs  and  mode 
of  warfare,  which  we  lack,  and  I  think  that  he  may  be  able 
to  give  us  good  counsel  in  our  strait.' 

'  The  counsel  of  the  wolf  to  the  deer  perhaps,'  said  Cuit- 
lahua,  coldly  ;  '  counsel  that  shall  lead  us  to  the  fangs  of  the 
Teules.  Who  shall  answer  for  this  foreign  devil,  that  he  will 
not  betray  us  if  we  trust  him  ?  ' 

'  I  will  answer  with  my  life,'  answered  Guatemoc. 

1  Your  life  is  of  too  great  worth  to  be  set  on  such  a  stake, 
nephew.  Men  of  this  white  breed  are  liars,  and  his  own  word 
is  of  no  value  even  if  he  gives  it.  I  think  that  it  will  be  best 
to  kill  him  and  have  done  with  doubts.' 

*  This  man  is  wed  to  Otomie,  princess  of  the  Otomie, 
Montezuma's  daughter,  your  niece,'  said  Guatemoc  again, 
1  and  she  loves  him  so  well  that  she  offered  herself  upon  the 
stone  of  sacrifice  with  him.  Unless  I  mistake  she  will  answer 
for  him  also.  Shall  she  be  summoned  before  you  ?  ' 

'If  you  wish,  nephew;  but  a  woman  in  love  is  a  blind 
woman,  and  doubtless  he  has  deceived  her  also.  Moreover, 
she  was  his  wife  according  to  the  rule  of  religion  only.  Is 
it  your  desire  that  the  princess  should  be  summoned  before 
you,  comrades  ? ' 

Now  some  said  nay,  but  the  most,  those  whose  interest 
Otomie  had  gained,  said  yea,  and  the  end  of  it  was  that  one 
of  their  number  was  sent  to  summon  her. 

Presently  she  came,  looking  very  weary,  but  proud  in  mien 
and  royally  attired,  and  bowed  before  the  council. 

'  This  is  the  question,  princess,'  said  Cuitlahua.  '  Whether 
this  Teule  shall  be  slain  forthwith,  or  whether  he  shall  be 
sworn  as  one  of  us,  should  he  be  willing  to  take  the  oath  ?  The 
prince  Guatemoc  here  vouches  for  him,  and  he  says,  moreover, 
that  you  will  vouch  for  him  also.  A  woman  can  do  this  in  one 
way  only,  by  taking  him  she  vouches  as  her  husband.  You 
are  already  wed  to  this  foreigner  by  the  rule  of  religion.  Are 
you  willing  to  marry  him  according  to  the  custom  of  our  land, 
and  to  answer  for  his  faith  with  your  own  life  ? ' 

'I  am  willing,'  Otomie  answered  quietly,  'if  he  is  willing.' 

'  In  truth  it  is  a  great  honour  that  you  would  do  this 
white  dog,'  said  Cuitlahua.  '  Bethink  you,  you  are  princess  of 
the  Otomie  and  one  of  our  master's  daughters,  it  is  to  you 
that  we  look  to  bring  back  the  mountain  clans  of  the  Oto- 
mie, of  whom  you  are  chieftainess,  from  their  unholy  alliance 
with  the  accursed  Tlascalans,  the  slaves  of  the  Teules.  Is 
not  your  life  too  precious  to  be  set  on  such  a  stake  as  this 


THOMAS  IS  MARRIED  183 

foreigner's  faith  ?  for  learn,  Otomie,  if  he  proves  false  your 
rank  shall  not  help  you.' 

' 1  know  it  all,'  she  replied  quietly.  '  Foreigner  or  not,  I 
love  this  man  and  I  will  answer  for  him  with  my  blood.  More- 
over, I  look  to  him  to  assist  me  to  win  back  the  people  of  the 
Otomie  to  their  allegiance.  But  let  him  speak  for  himself, 
my  lord.  It  may  happen  that  he  has  no  desire  to  take  me  in 
marriage.' 

Cuitlahua  smiled  grimly  and  said,  '  When  the  choice  lies 
between  the  breast  of  death  and  those  fair  arms  of  yours, 
niece,  it  is  easy  to  guess  his  answer.  Still,  speak,  Teule,  and 
swiftly.' 

*  I  have  little  to  say,  lord.  If  the  princess  Otomie  is  will- 
ing to  wed  me,  I  am  willing  to  wed  her,'  I  answered,  and 
thus  in  the  moment  of  my  danger  all  my  doubts  and  scruples 
vanished.  As  Cuitlahua  had  said,  it  was  easy  to  guess  the 
choice  of  one  set  between  death  and  Otomie. 

She  heard  and  looked  at  me  warningly,  saying  in  a  low 
voice:  '  Kemember  our  words,  Teule.  In  such  a  marriage  you 
renounce  your  past  and  give  me  your  future.' 

'  I  remember,'  I  answered,  and  while  I  spoke,  there  came 
before  my  eyes  a  vision  of  Lily's  face  as  it  had  been  when  I 
bade  her  farewell.  This  then  was  the  end  of  the  vows  that 
I  had  sworn.  Cuitlahua  looked  at  me  with  a  glance  which 
seemed  to  search  my  heart  and  said  : 

'  I  hear  your  words,  Teule.  You,  a  white  wanderer,  are 
graciously  willing  to  take  this  princess  to  wife,  and  by  her  to 
be  lifted  high  among  the  great  lords  of  this  land.  But  say, 
how  can  we  trust  you  ?  If  you  fail  us  your  wife  dies  indeed, 
but  that  may  be  naught  to  you.' 

'  I  am  ready  to  swear  allegiance,'  I  answered.  '  I  hate  the 
Spaniards,  and  among  them  is  my  bitterest  enemy  whom  I 
followed  across  the  sea  to  kill — the  man  who  strove  to  murder 
me  this  very  day.  I  can  say  no  more,  if  you  doubt  my 
words  it  were  best  to  make  an  end  of  me.  Already  I  have 
suffered  much  at  the  hands  of  your  people  ;  it  matters  little  if 
I  die  or  live.' 

1  Boldly  spoken,  Teule.  Now,  lords,  I  ask  your  judgment. 
Shall  this  man  be  given  to  Otomie  as  husband  and  be  sworn 
as  one  of  us,  or  shall  he  be  killed  instantly  ?  You  know  the 
matter.  If  he  can  be  trusted,  as  Guatemoc  and  Otomie  believe, 
he  will  be  worth  an  army  to  us,  for  he  is  acquainted  with  the 
language,  the  customs,  the  weapons,  and  the  modes  of  war- 
fare of  these  white  devils  whom  the  gods  have  let  loose  upon 


184  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

us.  If  on  the  other  hand  he  is  not  to  be  trusted,  and  it  is 
hard  for  us  to  put  faith  in  one  of  his  blood,  he  may  do  us  much 
injury,  for  in  the  end  he  will  escape  to  the  Teules,  and  betray 
our  counsels  and  our  strength,  or  the  lack  of  it.  It  is  for  you 
to  judge,  lords.' 

Now  the  counsellors  consulted  together,  and  some  said  one 
thing  and  some  another,  for  they  were  not  by  any  means  of 
a  mind  in  the  matter.  At  length  growing  weary,  Cuitlahua 
called  on  them  to  put  the  question  to  the  vote,  and  this  they 
did  by  a  lifting  of  hands.  First  those  who  were  in  favour 
of  my  death  held  up  their  hands,  then  those  who  thought 
that  it  would  be  wise  to  spare  me.  There  were  twenty-six 
councillors  present,  not  counting  Cuitlahua,  and  of  these 
thirteen  voted  for  my  execution  and  thirteen  were  for  saving 
me  alive. 

*  Now  it  seems  that  I  must  give  a  casting  vote,'  said  Cuit- 
lahua when  the  tale  had  been  rendered,  and  my  blood  turned 
cold  at  his  words,  for  I  had  seen  that  his  mind  was  set  against 
me.     Then  it  was  that  Otoinie  broke  in,  saying : 

*  Your  pardon,  my  uncle,  but  before  you  speak  I  have  a 
word  to  say.     You  need  my  services,  do  you  not  ?  for  if  the 
people  of  the  Otomie  will  listen  to  any  and  suffer  themselves 
to  be  led  from  their  evil  path,  it  is  to  me.     My  mother  was 
by  birth  their  chieftainess,  the  last  of  a  long  line,  and  I  am 
her   only    child,    moreover    my    father    is    their    emperor. 
Therefore  my  life  is  of  no  small  worth  now  in  this  time  of 
trouble,  for  though  I  am  nothing  in  myself,  yet  it  may  chance 
that  I  can  bring  thirty  thousand  warriors  to  your  standard. 
The  priests  knew  this  on  yonder  pyramid,  and  when  I  claimed 
my  right  to  lie  at  the  side  of  the  Teule,  they  gainsayed  me, 
nor  would  they  suffer  it,  though  they  hungered  for  the  royal 
blood,  till  I  called  down  the  vengeance  of  ihe  gods  upon  them. 
Now  my  uncle,  and  you,  lords,  I  tell  you  this :  Slay  yonder 
man  if  you  will,  but  know  that  then  you  must  find  another 
than  me  to  lure  the  Otomie  from  their  rebellion,  for  then  I 
complete  what  I  began  to-day,  and  follow  him  to  the  grave.' 

She  ceased  and  a  murmur  of  amazement  went  round  the 
chamber,  for  none  had  looked  to  find  such  love  and  courage 
in  this  lady's  heart.  Only  Cuitlahua  grew  angry. 

'Disloyal  girl,'  he  said  ;  '  do  you  dare  to  set  your  lover 
before  your  country  ?  Shame  upon  you,  shameless  daughter 
of  our  king.  Why,  it  is  in  the  blood — as  the  father  is  so  is  the 
daughter.  Did  not  Montezuma  forsake  his  people  and  choose 
to  lie  among  these  Teules,  the  false  children  of  Quetzal  ?  And 


THOMAS  IS  MARRIED  185 

now  this  Otomio  follows  in  his  path.  Tell  us  how  is  it, 
woman,  that  you  and  your  lover  alono  escaped  from  the 
teocalli  yonder  when  all  the  rest  were  killed.  Are  you  then  in 
league  with  these  Teules  ?  I  say  to  you,  niece,  that  if  things 
were  otherwise  and  I  had  my  way,  you  should  win  your  desire 
indeed,  for  you  should  be  slain  at  this  man's  side  and  within 
the  hour.'  And  he  ceased  for  lack  of  breath,  and  looked  upon 
her  fiercely. 

But  Otomie  never  quailed ;  she  stood  before  him  pale  and 
quiet,  with  folded  hands  and  downcast  eyes,  and  answered : 

'  Forbear  to  reproach  me  because  my  love  is   strong,   or 
reproach  me  if  you  will,  I  have  spoken  my  last  word.     Cmi 
demn  this  man  to  die  and  Prince  you  must  seek  some  other 
envoy  to  win  bark  the  Otomie  to  the  cause  of  Anahuac.' 

Now  Cuitlahua  pondered,  staring  into  the  gloom  above 
him  and  pulling  at  his  beard,  and  the  silence  \va-  great,  for 
none  knew  what  his  judgment  would  be.  At  last  he  spoke  : 

'  So  be  it.  We  have  need  of  Otomie,  my  niece,  and  it  is 
of  no  avail  to  fight  against  a  woman's  love.  Teule,  we  give 
you  life,  and  with  the  life  honour  and  wealth,  and  the  greatest 
of  our  women  in  marriage,  and  a  place  in  our  councils.  Take 
these  gifts  and  her,  but  I  say  to  you  both,  beware  how  you 
use  them.  If  you  betray  us,  nay,  if  you  do  but  think  on 
treachery,  I  swear  to  you  that  you  shall  die  a  death  so  slow 
and  horrible  that  the  very  name  of  it  would  turn  your  heart 
to  water  ;  you  and  your  wife,  your  children  and  your  servants. 
Come,  let  him  be  sworn  ! ' 

I  heard  and  my  head  swam,  and  a  mist  gathered  before  my 
eyes.  Once  again  I  was  saved  from  instant  death. 

Presently  it  cleared,  and  looking  up  my  eyes  met  those  of  the 
woman  who  had  saved  me,  Otomie  my  wife,  who  smiled  upon 
me  somewhat  sadly.  Then  the  priest  came  forward  bearing  a 
wooden  bowl,  carved  about  with  strange  signs,  and  a  flint  knife, 
and  bade  me  bare  my  arm.  He  cut  my  flesh  with  the  knife,  so 
that  blood  ran  from  it  into  the  bowl.  Some  drops  of  this 
blood  he  emptied  on  to  the  ground,  muttering  invocations  the 
while.  Then  he  turned  and  looked  at  Cuitlahua  as  though 
in  question,  and  Cuitlahua  answered  with  a  bitter  laugh  : 

'  Let  him  be  baptized  with  the  blood  of  the  princess  Otomie 
my  niece,  for  she  is  bail  for  him.' 

'  Nay,  lord/  said  Guatemoc,  '  these  two  have  mingled 
bloods  already  upon  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  and  they  are  man 
and  wife.  But  I  also  have  vouched  for  him,  and  I  offer  mine 
in  earnest  of  my  faith.' 


186  MONTEZl/AfA'S  DAUGHTER 

1  This  Teule  has  good  friends,'  said  Cuitlahua ;  '  you 
honour  him  overmuch.  But  so  be  it.' 

Then  Guatemoc  came  forward,  and  when  the  priest  would 
have  cut  him  with  the  knife,  he  laughed  and  said,  pointing 
to  the  bullet  wound  upon  his  neck : 

'  No  need  for  that,  priest.  Blood  runs  here  that  was  shed 
by  the  Teules.  None  can  be  fitter  for  this  purpose.' 

So  the  priest  drew  away  the  bandage  and  suffered  the 
blood  of  Guatemoc  to  drop  into  a  second  smaller  bowl.  Then 
he  came  to  me  and  dipping  his  finger  into  the  blood,  he  drew 
the  sign  of  a  cross  upon  my  forehead  as  a  Christian  priest 
draws  it  upon  the  forehead  of  an  infant,  and  said : 

'In  the  presence  and  the  name  of  god  our  lord,  who  is 
everywhere  and  sees  all  things,  I  sign  you  with  this  blood 
and  make  you  of  this  blood.  In  the  presence  and  the  name 
of  god  our  lord,  who  is  everywhere  and  sees  all  things,  I  pour 
forth  your  blood  upon  the  earth  ! '  (here  he  poured  as  he 
spoke).  '  As  this  blood  of  yours  sinks  into  the  earth,  so  ma} 
the  memory  of  your  past  life  sink  and  be  forgotten,  for  yoi; 
are  born  again  of  the  people  of  Anahuac.  In  the  present 
and  the  name  of  god  our  lord,  who  is  everywhere  and  seer 
all  things,  I  mingle  these  bloods  '  (here  he  poured  from  one 
bowl  into  the  other), '  and  with  them  I  touch  your  tongue 
(here  dipping  his  finger  into  the  bowl  he  touched  the  tip  of 
my  tongue  with  it)  '  and  bid  you  swear  thus  : 

'  "  May  every  evil  to  which  the  flesh  of  man  is  subject  elite? 
into  my  flesh,  may  I  live  in  misery  and  die  hi  torment  by 
the  dreadful  death,  may  my  soul  be  rejected  from  the  Houses 
of  the  Sun,  may  it  wander  homeless  for  ever  in  the  darkness 
that  is  behind  the  Stars,  if  I  depart  from  this  my  oath.  I,  Teule , 
swear  to  be  faithful  to  the  people  of  Anahuac  and  to  their 
lawful  governors.  I  swear  to  wage  war  upon  their  foes  anl 
to  compass  their  destruction,  and  more  especially  upon  the 
Teules  till  they  are  driven  into  the  sea.  I  swear  to  offer  no 
affront  to  the  gods  of  Anahuac.  I  swear  myself  in  marriage 
to  Otomie,  princess  of  the  Otomie,  the  daughter  of  Montezuma 
my  lord,  for  so  long  as  her  life  shall  endure.  I  swear  to 
attempt  no  escape  from  these  shores.  I  swear  to  renounce  my 
father  and  my  mother,  and  the  land  where  I  was  born,  and 
to  cling  to  this  land  of  my  new  birth  ;  and  this  my  oath  shall 
endure  till  the  volcan  Popo  ceases  to  vomit  smoke  and  fire, 
till  there  is  no  king  in  Tenoctitlan,  till  no  priest  serves  the 
altars  of  the  gods,  and  the  people  of  Anahuac  are  no  more  a 
people." 


THOMAS  IS  MARRIED  187 

*  Do  you  swear  these  things,  one  and  all  ?  ' 

*  One  and  all  I  swear  them,'  I  answered  because  I  must, 
though  there  was  much  in  the  oath  that  I  liked  little  enough. 
And  yet  mark  how  strangely  things  came  to  pass.     Within 
fifteen  years  from  that  night  the  volcan  Popo  had  ceased  to 
vomit   smoke  and   fire,   the   kings  had  ceased  to  reign  in 
Tenoctitlan,  the  priests  had  ceased  to  serve  the  altars  of  the 
gods,  the  people  of  Anahuac  were  no  more  a  people,  and  my 
vow  was  null  and  void.     Yet  the  priests  who   framed  this 
form  chose  these  things  as  examples  of  what  was  immortal ! 

When  I  had  sworn  Guatemoc  came  forward  and  embraced 
me,  saying :  '  Welcome,  Teule,  my  brother  in  blood  and  heart. 
Now  you  are  one  of  us,  and  we  look  to  you  for  help  and  counsel. 
Come,  be  seated  by  me.' 

I  looked  towards  Cuitlahua  doubtfully,  but  he  smiled 
graciously,  and  said :  '  Teule,  your  trial  is  over.  We  have 
accepted  you,  and  you  have  sworn  the  solemn  oath  of  brother- 
hood, to  break  which  is  to  die  horribly  in  this  world,  and 
to  be  tortured  through  eternity  by  demons  in  the  next. 
Forget  all  that  may  have  been  said  in  the  hour  of  your 
weighing,  for  the  balance  is  in  your  favour,  and  be  sure  that 
if  you  give  us  no  cause  to  doubt  you,  you  shall  find  none  to 
doubt  us.  Now  as  the  husband  of  Otornie,  you  are  a  lord 
among  the  lords,  having  honour  and  great  possessions,  and 
as  such  be  seated  by  your  brother  Guatemoc,  and  join  our 
council.' 

I  did  as  he  bade  me,  and  Otomie  withdrew  from  our 
presence.  Then  Cuitlahua  spoke  again,  no  longer  of  me  and 
my  matters,  but  of  the  urgent  affairs  of  state.  He  spoke  in 
slow  words  and  weighty,  and  more  than  once  his  voice  broke 
in  his  sorrow.  He  told  of  the  grievous  misfortunes  that  had 
overcome  the  country,  of  the  death  of  hundreds  of  its  bravest 
warriors,  of  the  slaughter  of  the  priests  and  soldiers  that  day 
on  the  teocalli,  and  the  desecration  of  his  nation's  gods. 
What  was  to  be  done  in  this  extremity  ?  he  asked.  Montezuma 
lay  dying,  a  prisoner  in  the  camp  of  the  Teules,  and  the  fire 
that  he  had  nursed  with  his  breath  devoured  the  land.  No 
efforts  of  theirs  could  break  the  iron  strength  of  these  white 
devils,  armed  as  they  were  with  strange  and  terrible  weapons. 
Day  by  day  disaster  overtook  the  arms  of  the  Aztecs.  What 
wisdom,  had  they  now  that  the  protecting  gods  were  shattered 
in  their  very  shrines,  when  the  altars  ran  red  with  the  blood 
of  their  ministering  priests,  when  the  oracles  were  dumb  or 
answered  only  in  the  accents  of  despair  ? 


188  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

Then  one  by  one  princes  and  generals  arose  and  gave 
counsel  according  to  their  lights.  At  length  all  had  spoken, 
and  Cuitlahua  said,  looking  towards  me  : 

*  We  have  a  new  counsellor  among  us,  who  is  skilled  in 
the  warfare  and  customs  of  the  white  men,  who  till  an  hour 
ago  was  himself  a  white  man.     Has  he  no  word  of  comfort 
for  us  ?  ' 

*  Speak,  my  brother  ?  '  said  Guatemoc. 

Then  I  spoke.  '  Most  noble  Cuitlahua,  and  you  lords  and 
princes.  You  honour  me  by  asking  my  counsel,  and  it  is  this 
in  few  words  and  brief.  You  waste  your  strength  by  hurling 
your  armies  continually  against  stone  walls  and  the  weapons 
of  the  Teules.  Bo  you  shall  not  prevail  against  them.  Your 
devices  must  be  changed  if  you  would  win  victory.  The 
Spaniards  are  like  other  men  ;  they  are  no  gods  as  the  ignorant 
imagine,  and  the  creatures  on  which  they  ride  are  not  demons 
but  beasts  of  burden,  such  as  are  used  for  many  purposes  in 
the  land  where  I  was  born.  The  Spaniards  are  men  I  say, 
and  do  not  men  hunger  and  thirst  ?  Cannot  men  be  worn 
out  by  want  of  sleep,  and  be  killed  in  many  ways  ?  Are  not 
these  Teules  already  weary  to  the  death  ?  This  then  is  my 
word  of  comfort  to  you.  Cease  to  attack  the  Spaniards  and 
invest  their  camp  so  closely  that  no  food  can  reach  them  and 
their  allies  the  Tlascalans.  If  this  is  done,  within  ten  days 
from  now,  either  they  will  surrender  or  they  will  strive  to 
break  their  way  back  to  the  coast.  But  to  do  this,  first  they 
must  win  out  of  the  city,  and  if  dykes  are  cut  through  the 
causeways,  that  will  be  no  easy  matter.  Then  when  the;y 
strive  to  escape  cumbered  with  the  gold  they  covet  and  came 
here  to  seek,  then  I  say  will  be  the  hour  to  attack  them  and 
to  destroy  them  utterly.' 

I  ceased,  and  a  murmur  of  applause  went  round  the 
council. 

*  It  seems  that  we  came   to  a  wise  judgment  when  w( 
determined  to  spare  this  man's  life,'  said  Cuitlahua,  *  for  al 
that  he  tells  us  is  true,  and  I  would  that  we  had  followed  thif 
policy  from  the  first.     Now,  lords,  I  give  my  voice  for  actin< 
as  our  brother  points  the  way.     What  say  you  ?  ' 

4  We  say  with  you  that  our  brother's  words  are  good, 
answered  Guatemoc  presently,  '  and  now  let  us  follow  them  t< 
the  end.' 

Then,  after  some  further  talk,  the  council  broke  up  and 
Sought  my  chamber  well  nigh  blind  with  weariness  and  crushe 
by  the  weight  of  all  that  I  had  suffered  on  that  eventful  day. 


THOMAS  IS  MARRIED  189 

The  dawn  was  flaring  in  the  eastern  sky,  and  by  its  glimmer 
I  found  my  path  down  the  empty  corridors,  till  at  length  I 
came  to  the  curtains  of  my  sleeping  place.  I  drew  them  and 
passed  through.  There,  far  up  the  room,  the  faint  light 
gleaming  on  her  snowy  dress,  her  raven  hair  and  ornaments 
of  gold,  stood  Otomie  my  hride. 

I  went  towards  her,  and  as  I  came  she  glided  to  meet  me 
with  outstretched  arms.  Presently  they  won-  about  my  neck 
and  her  kiss  was  on  my  hrow. 

*  Now  all  is  done,  my  love  and  lord,'  she  whispered,  '  and 
come  good  or  ill,  or  both,  we  are  one  till  death,  for  such  vows 
as  ours  cannot  be  broken.' 

1  All  is  done  indeed,  Otomie,  and  our  oaths  are  lifelong, 
though  other  oaths  have  been  broken  that  they  might  be 
sworn,'  I  answered. 

Thus  then  I,  Thomas  Wingfield,  was  wed  to  Otomie, 
princess  of  the  Otomie,  Montezuma's  daughter. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE     NIGHT    OF     FEAR 

LONG  before  I  awoke  that  day  the  commands  of  the  council 
had  been  carried  out,  and  the  bridges  in  the  great  causeways 
were  broken  down  wherever  dykes  crossed  the  raised  roads 
that  ran  through  the  waters  of  the  lake.  That  afternoon 
also  I  went  dressed  as  an  Indian  warrior  with  Guatemoc  and 
the  other  generals,  to  a  parley  which  was  held  with  Cortes,  wlio 
took  his  stand  on  the  same  tower  of  the  palace  that  Montezuma 
had  stood  on  when  the  arrow  of  Guatemoc  struck  him  down. 
There  is  little  to  be  said  of  this  parley,  and  I  remember  it 
chiefly  because  it  was  then  for  the  first  time  since  I  had  left 
the  Tobascans  that  I  saw  Marina  close,  and  heard  her  sweet 
and  gentle  voice.  For  now  as  ever  she  was  by  the  side  of 
Cortes,  translating  his  proposals  of  peace  to  the  Aztecs. 
Among  those  proposals  was  one  which  showed  me  that  de 
Garcia  had  not  been  idle.  It  asked  that  the  false  white  man 
who  had  been  rescued  from  the  altars  of  the  gods  upon  the 
tcocalli  should  be  given  in  exchange  for  certain  Aztec 
prisoners,  in  order  that  he  might  be  hung  according  to  his 
merits  as  a  spy  and  deserter,  a  traitor  to  the  emperor  of 


IQO  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

Spain.  I  wondered  as  I  heard,  if  Marina  knew  when  she 
spoke  the  words,  that  *  the  false  white  man  '  was  none  other 
than  the  friend  of  her  Tobascan  days. 

'  You  see  that  you  are  fortunate  in  having  found  place  among 
us  Aztecs,  Teule,'  said  Guatemoc  with  a  laugh,  '  for  your  own 
people  would  greet  you  with  a  rope.' 

Then  he  answered  Cortes,  saying  nothing  of  me,  but  bid- 
ding him  and  all  the  Spaniards  prepare  for  death  : 

1  Many  of  us  have  perished,'  he  said ;  '  you  also  must 
perish,  Teules.  You  shall  perish  of  hunger  and  thirst,  you 
shall  perish  on  the  altars  of  the  gods.  There  is  no  escape  for 
you  Teules  ;  the  bridges  are  broken.' 

And  all  the  multitude  took  up  the  words  and  thundered  out, 
*  There  is  no  escape  for  you  Teules  ;  the  bridges  are  broken  !  ' 

Then  the  shooting  of  arrows  began,  and  I  sought  the 
palace  to  tell  Otomie  my  wife  what  I  had  gathered  of  the 
state  of  her  father  Montezuma,  who  the  Spaniards  said  still 
lay  dying,  and  of  her  two  sisters  who  were  hostages  in  their 
quarters.  Also  I  told  her  how  my  surrender  had  been 
sought,  and  she  kissed  me,  and  said  smiling,  that  though  my 
life  was  now  burdened  with  her,  still  it  was  better  so  than 
that  I  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Spaniards. 

Two  days  later  came  the  news  that  Montezuma  was  dead, 
and  shortly  after  it  his  body,  which  the  Spaniards  handed 
over  to  the  Aztecs  for  burial,  attired  in  the  gorgeous  robes  of 
royalty.  They  laid  it  in  the  hall  of  the  palace,  whence  it  was 
hurried  secretly  and  at  night  to  Chapoltepec,  and  there  hidden 
away  with  small  ceremony,  for  it  was  feared  that  the  people 
might  rend  it  limb  from  limb  in  their  rage.  With  Otomie  weep- 
ing at  my  side,  I  looked  for  the  last  time  on  the  face  of  that  most 
unhappy  king,  whose  reign  so  glorious  in  its  beginning  had 
ended  thus.  And  while  I  looked  I  wondered  what  suffering 
could  have  equalled  his,  as  fallen  from  his  estate  and  hated 
by  the  subjects  whom'  he  had  betrayed,  he  lay  dying,  a  prisoner 
in  the  power  of  the  foreign  wolves  who  were  tearing  out  his 
country's  heart.  It  is  little  wonder  indeed  that  Montezuma  rent 
the  bandages  from  his  wounds  and  would  not  suffer  them  to 
tend  his  hurts.  For  the  real  hurt  was  in  his  soul ;  there  the 
iron  had  entered  deeply,  and  no  leech  could  cure  it  except  one 
called  Death.  And  yet  the  fault  was  not  all  his,  the  devils 
whom  he  worshipped  as  gods  were  revenged  upon  him,  for 
they  had  filled  him  with  the  superstitions  of  their  wicked 
faith,  and  because  of  these  the  gods  and  their  high  priesL 
must  sink  into  a  common  ruin.  Were  it  not  for  these 


THE  NIGHT  OF  FEAR  191 

unsubstantial  terrors  that  haunted  him,  the  Spaniards  had 
never  won  a  foothold  in  Tenoctitlan,  and  the  Aztecs  would 
have  remained  free  for  many  a  year  to  come.  But  Providence 
willed  it  otherwise,  and  this  dead  and  disgraced  monarch  was 
but  its  instrument. 

Such  were  the  thoughts  that  passed  through  my  mind  as 
I  gazed  upon  the  body  of  the  great  Montezuma.  But  Otomie, 
ceasing  from  her  tears,  kissed  his  clay  and  cried  aloud  : 

'  0  my  father,  it  is  well  that  you  are  dead,  for  none  who 
loved  you  could  desire  to  see  you  live  on  in  shame  and  servitude. 
May  the  gods  you  worshipped  give  me  strength  to  avenge  you, 
or  if  they  be  no  gods,  then  may  I  find  it  in  myself.  I  swear 
this,  my  father,  that  while  a  man  is  left  to  me  I  will  not 
cease  from  seeking  to  avenge  you.' 

Then  taking  my  hand,  without  another  word  she  turned 
and  passed  thence.  As  will  be  seen,  she  kept  her  oath. 

On  that  day  and  on  the  morrow  there  was  fighting  with 
the  Spaniards,  who  sallied  out  to  fill  up  the  gaps  in  the  dykes 
of  the  causeway,  a  task  in  which  they  succeeded,  though  with 
Borne  loss.  But  it  availed  them  nothing,  for  so  soon  as  their 
backs  were  turned  we  opened  the  dykes  again.  It  was  on 
these  days  that  for  the  first  time  I  had  experience  of  war, 
and  armed  with  my  bow  made  after  the  English  pattern,  I 
did  good  service.  As  it  chanced,  the  very  first  arrow  that  I 
drew  was  on  my  hated  foe  de  Garcia,  but  here  my  common 
fortune  pursued  me,  for  being  out  of  practice,  or  over-anxious, 
[  aimed  too  high,  though  the  mark  was  an  easy  one,  and  the 
shaft  pierced  the  iron  of  his  casque,  causing  him  to  reel  in 
:ris  saddle,  but  doing  him  no  further  hurt.  Still  this  marks- 
manship, poor  as  it  was,  gained  me  great  renown  among  the 
Aztecs,  who  were  but  feeble  archers,  for  they  had  never  before 
seen  an  arrow  pierce  through  the  Spanish  mail.  Nor  would 
mine  have  done  so  had  I  not  collected  the  iron  barbs  off 
the  crossbow  bolts  of  the  Spaniards,  and  fitted  them  to  my 
own  shafts.  I  seldom  found  the  mail  that  would  withstand 
arrows  made  thus,  when  the  range  was  short  and  the  aim 
good. 

After  the  first  day's  fight  I  was  appointed  general  over  a 
body  of  three  thousand  archers,  and  was  given  a  banner  to  be 
borne  before  me  and  a  gorgeous  captain's  dress  to  wear.  But 
what  pleased  me  better  was  a  chain  shirt  which  came  from 
the  body  of  a  Spanish  cavalier.  For  many  years  I  always 
wore  this  shirt  beneath  my  cotton  mail,  and  it  saved  my 


T92  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

life  more  than  once,  for  even  bullets  would  not  pierce  the  two 
of  them. 

I  had  taken  over  the  command  of  my  archers  but  forty- 
eight  hours,  a  scant  time  in  which  to  teach  them  discipline 
whereof  they  had  little,  though  they  were  brave  enough, 
when  the  occasion  came  to  use  them  in  good  earnest,  and 
with  it  the  night  of  disaster  that  is  still  known  among  the 
Spaniards  as  the  noche  triste.  On  the  afternoon  before  that 
night  a  council  was  held  in  the  palace  at  which  I  spoke,  say- 
ing, I  was  certain  that  the  Teules  thought  of  retreat  from  the 
city,  and  in  the  dark,  for  otherwise  they  would  not  have  been 
so  eager  to  fill  up  the  canals  in  the  causeway.  To  this  Cuit- 
lahua,  who  now  that  Montezuma  was  dead  would  be  emperor, 
though  he  was  not  yet  chosen  and  crowned,  answered  that  it 
might  well  be  that  the  Teules  meditated  flight,  but  that  they 
could  never  attempt  it  in  the  darkness,  since  in  so  doing  they 
must  become  entangled  in  the  streets  and  dykes. 

I  replied  that  though  it  was  not  the  Aztec  habit  to  march 
and  fight  at  night,  such  things  were  common  enough  among 
white  men  as  they  had  seen  already,  and  that  because  the 
Spaniards  knew  it  was  not  their  habit,  they  would  be  the 
more  likely  to  attempt  escape  under  cover  of  the  darkness, 
when  they  thought  their  enemies  asleep.  Therefore  I  coun- 
selled that  sentries  should  be  set  at  all  the  entrances  to  every 
causeway.  To  this  Cuitlahua  assented,  and  assigned  the 
causeway  of  Tlacopan  to  Guatemoc  and  myself,  making  us 
the  guardians  cf  its  safety.  That  night  Guatemoc  and  I,  with 
some  soldiers,  went  out  towards  midnight  to  visit  the  guard 
that  we  had  placed  upon  the  causeway.  It  was  very  dark 
and  a  fine  rain  fell,  so  that  a  man  could  see  no  further  before 
his  eyes  than  he  can  at  evening  through  a  Norfolk  roke  in 
autumn.  We  found  and  relieved  the  guard,  which  reported 
that  all  was  quiet,  and  we  were  returning  towards  the  great 
square  when  of  a  sudden  I  heard  a  dull  sound  as  of  thousands 
of  men  tramping. 

'  Listen,'  I  said. 

*  It  is  the  Teules  who  escape,'  whispered  Guatemoc. 

Quickly  we  ran  to  where  the  street  from  the  great  squarr 
opens  on  to  the  causeway,  and  there  even  through  the  dark- 
ness and  rain  we  caught  the  gleam  of  armour.  Then  I  cried 
aloud  in  a  great  voice,  'To  arms!  To  arms!  The  Teules 
escape  by  the  causeway  of  Tlacopan.' 

Instantly  my  words  were  caught  up  by  the  sentries  an  1 
passed  from  post  to  post  till  the  city  rang  with  them.  They. 


THE  NIGHT  OF  FEAR  193 

were  cried  in  every  street  and  canal,  they  echoed  from  the 
roofs  of  houses,  and  among  the  summits  of  a  hundred  temples. 
The  city  awoke  with  a  murmur,  from  the  lake  came  the  sound 
of  water  beaten  by  ten  thousand  oars,  as  though  myriads  of 
wild-fowl  had  sprung  suddenly  from  their  reedy  beds.  Here, 
there,  and  everywhere  torches  flashed  out  like  falling  stars, 
wild  notes  were  blown  on  horns  and  shells,  and  above  all 
arose  the  booming  of  the  snakeskin  drum,  which  the  priests 
upon  the  tcocalli  beat  furiously. 

Presently  the  murmur  grew  to  a  roar,  and  from  this  direc- 
tion and  from  that,  armed  men  poured  towards  the  causeway 
of  Tlacopan.  Some  came  on  foot,  but  the  most  of  them  were 
in  canoes  which  covered  the  waters  of  the  lake  further  than 
the  ear  could  hear.  Now  the  Spaniards  to  the  number  of  fif- 
teen hundred  or  so,  accompanied  by  some  six  or  eight  thousand 
Tlascalans,  were  emerging  on  the  causeway  in  a  long  thin 
line.  Guatemoc  and  I  rushed  before  them,  collecting  men 
as  we  went,  till  we  came  to  the  first  canal,  where  canoes  were 
already  gathering  by  scores.  The  head  of  the  Spanish 
column  reached  the  canal  and  the  fight  began,  which  so 
Ear  as  the  Aztecs  were  concerned  was  a  fray  without  plan  or 
onl.  i .  for  in  that  darkness  and  confusion  the  captains  could 
not  see  their  men  or  the  men  hear  their  captains.  But  they 
were  there  in  countless  numbers  and  had  only  one  desire  in 
iheir  breasts,  to  kill  the  Teules.  A  cannon  roared,  sending  a 
storm  of  bullets  through  us,  and  by  its  flash  we  saw  that  the 
Spaniards  carried  a  timber  bridge  with  them,  which  they 
were  placing  across  the  canal.  Then  we  fell  on  them,  every 
man  lighting  for  himself.  Guatemoc  and  I  were  swept  over 
that  bridge  by  the  first  rush  of  the  enemy,  as  leaves  are  swept 
in  a  gale,  and  though  both  of  us  won  tkrough  safely  we  saw 
each  other  no  more  that  night.  With  us  and  after  us  came 
the  long  array  of  Spaniards  and  Tlascalans,  and  from  every 
side  the  Aztecs  poured  upon  them,  clinging  to  their  struggling 
line  as  ants  cling  to  a  wounded  worm. 

How  can  I  tell  all  that  came  to  pass  that  night  ?  I  cannot, 
for  I  saw  but  little  of  it.  All  I  know  is  that  for  two  hours  I 
was  fighting  like  a  madman.  The  foe  crossed  the  first  canal, 
but  when  all  were  over  the  bridge  was  sunk  so  deep  in  the 
mud  that  it  could  not  be  stirred,  and  three  furlongs  on  ran  a 
second  canal  deeper  and  wider  than  the  first.  Over  this  they 
could  not  cross  till  it  was  bridged  with  the  dead.  It  seemed 
as  though  all  hell  had  broken  loose  upon  that  narrow  ridge 
of  ground.  The  sound  of  camions  and  of  arquebusses,  the 

0 


194  MONTEZVMA'S  DAUGHTER 

shrieks  of  agony  and  fear,  the  shouts  of  the  Spanish  soldier, 
the  war-cries  of  the  Aztecs,  the  screams  of  wounded  horse 
the  wail  of  women,  the  hiss  of  hurtling  darts  and  arrows,  an 
the  dull  noise  of   falling  blows  went  up  to  heaven  in  or 
hideous  hurly-burly.     Like  a  frightened  mob  of  cattle  the  Ion  ; 
Spanish    array  swayed   this  way  and  that,  bellowing  as 
swayed.     Many  rolled  down  the  sides  of  the  causeway  to  I  3 
slaughtered  in  the  water  of  the  lake,  or  borne  away  to  sacr 
fice  in  the  canoes,  many  were  drowned  in  the  canals,  and  yc  t 
more  were  trampled  to  death  in  the  mud.     Hundreds  of  th  3 
Aztecs  perished  also,  for  the  most  part  beneath  the  weapor  3 
of  their  own  friends,  who  struck  and  shot  not  knowing  o  i 
whom  the  blow  should  fall  or  in  whose  breast  the  arro 
would  find  its  home. 

For  my  part*  I  fought  on  with  a  little  band  of  men  wh  o 
had  gathered  about  me,  till  at  last  the  dawn  broke  and 
showed  an  awful  sight.  The  most  of  those  who  were  le  t 
alive  of  the  Spaniards  and  their  allies  had  crossed  the  second 
canal  upon  a  bridge  made  of  the  dead  bodies  of  their  fellov  s 
mixed  up  with  a  wreck  of  baggage,  cannon,  and  package  s 
of  treasure.  Now  the  fight  was  raging  beyond  it.  A  mcb 
of  Spaniards  and  Tlascalans  were  still  crossing  the  second 
breach,  and  on  these  I  fell  with  such  men  as  were  with  m 
I  plunged  right  into  the  heart  of  them,  and  suddenly  befo]  e 
me  I  saw  the  face  of  de  Garcia.  With  a  shout  I  rushed  at  him. 
He  heard  my  voice  and  knew  me.  With  an  oath  he  struck  5  ,t 
my  head.  The  heavy  sword  came  down  upon  my  helmet  of 
painted  wood,  shearing  away  one  side  of  it  and  felling  m  3, 
but  ere  I  fell  I  smote  him  on  the  breast  with  the  club  I  carrieo 
tumbling  him  to  the  earth.  Now  half  stunned  and  blind*  d 
I  crept  towards  him  through  the  press.  All  that  I  cou  d 
see  was  a  gleam  of  armour  in  the  mud.  I  threw  myself 
upon  it,  gripping  at  the  wearer's  throat,  and  together  we  rolled 
down  the  side  of  the  causeway  into  the  shallow  water  at  the 
edge  of  the  lake.  I  was  uppermost,  and  with  a  fierce  joy  I 
dashed  the  blood  from  my  eyes  that  I  might  see  to  kill  my 
enemy  caught  at  last.  His  body  was  in  the  lake  but  his 
head  lay  upon  the  sloping  bank,  and  my  plan  was  to  hold 
him  beneath  the  water  till  he  was  drowned,  for  I  had  lost 
my  club. 

'  At  length,  de  Garcia  ! '  I  cried  in  Spanish  as  I  shifted  my 
grip. 

'  For  the  love  of  God  let  me  go ! '  gasped  a  rough  voioa 
beneath  me.     *  Fool,  I  am  no  Indian  dog.' 


'At  length,  de  Garcia!'  I  cried  in  Spanish. 


THE  NIGHT  OF  FEAR  195 

Now  I  peered  into  the  man's  face  bewildered.  I  had 
seized  de  Garcia,  but  the  voice  was  not  his  voice,  nor  was 
the  face  his  face,  but  that  of  a  rough  Spanish  soldier. 

*  Who  are  you  ?  '  I  asked,  slackening  my  hold.  '  Where  is 
de  Garcia — he  whom  you  name  Sarceda  ?  ' 

'  Sarceda  ?  I  don't  know.  A  minute  ago  he  was  on  his 
back  on  the  causeway.  The  fellow  pulled  me  down  and 
rolled  behind  me.  Let  me  be  I  say.  I  am  not  Sarceda,  and 
if  I  were,  is  this  a  time  to  settle  private  quarrels  ?  I  am  your 
comrade,  Bernal  Diaz.  Holy  Mother !  who  are  you  ?  An 
Aztec  who  speaks  Castilian  ?  ' 

'  I  am  no  Aztec,'  I  answered.  '  I  am  an  Englishman  and 
I  fight  with  the  Aztecs  that  I  may  slay  him  whom  you  name 
Sarceda.  But  with  you  I  have  no  quarrel,  Bernal  Diaz. 
Begone  and  escape  if  you  can.  No,  I  will  keep  the  sword 
•with  your  leave.' 

'  Englishman,  Spaniard,  Aztec,  or  devil,'  grunted  the  man 
as  he  drew  himself  from  his  bed  of  ooze,  '  you  are  a  good 
fellow,  and  I  promise  you  that  if  I  live  through  this,  and  it 
should  ever  come  about  that  I  get  you  by  the  throat,  I  will 
remember  the  turn  you  did  me.  Farewell ; '  and  without  more 
ado  he  rushed  up  the  bank  and  plunged  into  a  knot  of  his 
flying  countrymen,  leaving  his  good  sword  in  my  hand.  I 
strove  to  follow  him  that  I  might  find  my  enemy,  who  once 
more  had  escaped  me  by  craft,  but  my  strength  failed  me,  for 
de  Garcia's  sword  had  bitten  deep  and  I  bled  much.  So  I 
must  sit  where  I  was  till  a  canoe  came  and  bore  me  back  to 
Otomie  to  be  nursed,  and  ten  days  went  by  before  I  could  walk 
again. 

This  was  my  share  in  the  victory  of  the  noche  triste. 
Alas  !  it  was  a  barren  triumph,  though  more  than  five  hundred 
of  the  Spaniards  were  slain  and  thousands  of  their  allies. 
For  there  was  no  warlike  skill  or  discipline  among  the  Aztecs, 
and  instead  of  following  the  Spaniards  till  not  one  of  them 
remained  alive,  they  stayed  to  plunder  the  dead  and  drag 
away  the  living  to  sacrifice.  Also  this  day  of  revenge  was  a 
sad  one  to  Otomie,  seeing  that  two  of  her  brothers,  Monte- 
zuma's  sons  whom  the  Spaniards  held  in  hostage,  perished 
with  them  in  the  fray. 

As  for  de  Garcia  I  could  not  learn  what  had  become  of 
him,  nor  whether  he  was  dead  or  living. 


o2 


1 96  MONTEZUMA*S  DAUGHTER 

CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  BURYING  OF  MONTEZUMA'S  TKEASUEE 

CUITLAHUA  was  crowned  Emperor  of  the  Aztecs  in  successio: 
to  his  brother  Montezuma,  while  I  lay  sick  with  the  woun< 
given  me  by  the  sword  of  de  Garcia,  and  also  with  that  which 
had  received  on  the  altar  of  sacrifice.     This  hurt  had  foun< 
no   time   to  heal,   and  in   the  fierce  fighting  on  the  Nigh 
of  Fear  it  burst  open  and  bled  much.     Indeed  it  gave  m 
trouble  for  years,  and  to  this  hour  I  feel  it  in  the  autumi 
season.     Otomie,  who  nursed  me  tenderly,  and  so  strange  i 
the  heart  of  woman,  even  seemed  to  be  consoled  in  her  sorrow 
at  the  loss  of  her  father  and  nearest  kin,  because  I  ha<. 
escaped  the  slaughter  and  won  fame,  told  me  of  the  cere 
mony  of  the  crowning,  which  was  splendid  enough.      Indeed 
the   Aztecs    were    almost   mad   with   rejoicing   because   the 
Teules  had  gone  at  last.     They  forgot,  or  seemed  to  forget, 
the  loss  of  thousands  of  their  bravest  warriors  and  of  the 
flower  of  their  rank,  and  as  yet,  at  any  rate,  they  did  not  lool: 
forward  to  the  future.     From  house  to  house  and  street  to 
street  ran  troops  of  young  men  and  maidens  garlanded  witl 
flowers,  crying,  '  The  Teules  are  gone,  rejoice  with  us  ;  thr 
Teules  are  fled  !  '  and  woe  to  them  who  were  not  merry,  ay 
even  though  their  houses  were  desolate  with  death.    Also  thr 
statues  of  the  gods  were  set  up  again  on  the  great  pyramic 
and  their  temples  rebuilt,  the  holy  crucifix  that  the  Spaniards 
had  placed  there  being  served  as  the  idols  Huitzel  and  Tezcai 
had  been  served,  and  tumbled  down  the  sides  of  the  teocalli 
and  that  after  sacrifice  of  some  Spanish  prisoners  had  beer 
offered  in  its  presence.     It  was  Guatemoc  himself  who  tolc 
me  of  this  sacrilege,  but  not  with  any  exultation,  for  I  hac 
taught  him  something  of  our  faith,  and  though  he  was  toe- 
sturdy  a  heathen  to  change  his  creed,  in  secret  he  believed  that 
the  God  of  the  Christians  was  a  true  and  mighty  God.    More- 
over, though  he  was  obliged  to  countenance  them,  because  of 
the  power  of  the  priests,  like  Otomie,  Guatemoc  never  loved 
the  horrid  rites  of  human  sacrifice. 

Now  when  I  heard  this  tale  my  anger  overcame  my  reason, 
and  I  spoke  fiercely,  saying  : 

1 1  am  sworn  to  your  cause,  Guatemoc,  my  brother,  and  I  am 
married  to  your  blood,  but  I  tell  you  that  from  this  hour  it  is 
an  accursed  cause  ;  because  of  your  bloodstained  idols  and  youi 


THE  BURYING   OF  MONTEZUMA^S   TREASURE    197 

priests,  it  is  accursed.  That  God  whom  you  have  desecrated, 
and  those  who  serve  Him  shall  come  back  in  power,  and  He 
shall  sit  where  your  idols  sat  and  none  shall  stir  him  for  ever.' 

Thus  I  spoke,  and  my  words  were  true,  though  I  do  not 
know  what  put  them  into  my  heart,  since  I  spoke  at  random  in 
my  wrath.  For  to-day  Christ's  Church  stands  upon  the  site 
of  the  place  of  sacrifice  in  Mexico,  a  sign  and  a  token  of  His 
triumph  over  devils,  and  there  it  shall  stand  while  the  world 
endures. 

'  You  speak  rashly,  my  brother,'  Guatemoc  answered, 
proudly  enough,  though  I  saw  him  quail  at  the  evil  omen  of 
my  words.  '  I  say  you  speak  rashly,  and  were  you  over- 
heard there  are  those,  notwithstanding  the  rank  we  have 
given  you,  the  honour  which  you  have  won  in  war  and  council, 
and  that  you  have  passed  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  who  might 
force  you  to  look  again  upon  the  faces  of  the  beings  you 
blaspheme.  What  worse  thing  has  been  done  to  your 
Christian  God  than  has  been  done  again  and  again  to  our 
gods  by  your  white  kindred  ?  But  let  us  talk  no  more  of  this 
matter,  and  I  pray  you,  my  brother,  do  not  utter  such  ill- 
omened  words  to  me  again,  lest  it  should  strain  our  love. 
Do  you  then  believe  that  the  Teules  will  return  ? ' 

'Ay,  Guatemoc,  so  surely  as  to-morrow's  sun  shall  rise. 
When  you  held  Cortes  in  your  hand  you  let  him  go,  and  since 
then  he  has  won  a  victory  at  Otompan.  Is  he  a  man,  think 
you,  to  sheathe  the  sword  that  he  has  once  drawn,  and  go 
down  into  darkness  and  dishonour  ?  Before  a  year  is  past  the 
Spaniards  will  be  back  at  the  gates  of  Tenoctitlan.' 

*  You  are  no  comforter  to-night,  my  brother,'  said 
Guatemoc,  '  and  yet  I  fear  that  your  words  are  true.  Well, 
if  we  must  fight,  let  us  strive  to  win.  Now,  at  least,  there  is 
no  Montezuma  to  take  the  viper  to  his  breast  and  nurse  it  till 
it  stings  him.'  Then  he  rose  and  went  in  silence,  and  I  saw 
that  his  heart  was  heavy. 

On  the  morrow  of  this  talk  I  could  leave  my  bed,  and 
within  a  week  I  was  almost  well.  Now  it  was  that  Guatemoc 
came  to  me  again,  saying  that  he  had  been  bidden  by 
Cuitlahua  the  emperor,  to  command  me  to  accompany  him, 
Guatemoc,  on  a  service  of  trust  and  secrecy.  And  indeed  the 
nature  of  the  service  showed  how  great  a  confidence  the  leaders 
of  the  Aztecs  now  placed  in  me,  for  it  was  none  other  than  the 
hiding  away  of  the  treasure  that  had  been  recaptured  from 
the  Spaniards  on  the  Night  of  Fear,  and  with  it  much  more 
from  the  secret  stores  of  the  empire. 


198  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

At  the  fall  of  darkness  we  started,  some  of  the  great  lords, 
Guatemoc  and  I,  and  coming  to  the  water's  edge,  we  found  ten 
large  canoes,  each  laden  with  something  that  was  hidden  by 
cotton  cloths.  Into  these  canoes  we  entered  secretly,  thinking 
that  none  saw  us,  three  to  a  canoe,  for  there  were  thirty  of  us 
in  all,  and  led  by  Guatemoc,  we  paddled  for  two  hours  or  more 
across  the  Lake  Tezcuco,  till  we  reached  the  further  shore  at 
a  spot  where  this  prince  had  a  fair  estate.  Here  we  landed,  and 
the  cloths  were  withdrawn  from  the  cargoes  of  the  canoes,  which 
were  great  jars  and  sacks  of  gold  and  jewels,  besides  many  other 
precious  objects,  among  them  a  likeness  of  the  head  of  Monte- 
zuma,  fashioned  in  solid  gold,  which  was  so  heavy  that  it  was 
as  much  as  Guatemoc  and  I  could  do  to  lift  it  between  us.  As 
for  the  jars,  of  which,  if  my  memory  serves  me,  there  were 
seventeen,  six  men  must  carry  each  of  them  by  the  help  of 
paddles  lashed  on  either  side,  and  then  the  task  was  not  light. 
All  this  priceless  stuff  we  bore  in  several  journeys  to  the  crest 
of  a  rise  some  six  hundred  paces  distant  from  the  water,  setting 
it  down  by  the  mouth  of  a  shaft  behind  the  shelter  of  a  mound 
of  earth.  When  everything  was  brought  up  from  the  boats, 
Guatemoc  touched  me  and  another  man,  a  great  Aztec  noble, 
born  of  a  Tlascalan  mother,  on  the  shoulder,  asking  us  if  we 
were  willing  to  descend  with  him  into  the  hole,  and  there  to 
dispose  of  the  treasure. 

'  Gladly,'  I  answered,  for  I  was  curious  to  see  the  place, 
but  the  noble  hesitated  awhile,  though  in  the  end  he  came 
with  us,  to  his  ill- fortune. 

Then  Guatemoc  took  torches  in  his  hand,  and  was  lowered 
into  the  shaft  by  a  rope.  Next  came  my  turn,  and  down  I 
went,  hanging  to  the  cord  like  a  spider  to  its  thread,  and  the 
hole  was  very  deep.  At  length  I  found  myself  standing  by 
the  side  of  Guatemoc  at  the  foot  of  the  shaft,  round  which, 
as  I  saw  by  the  light  of  the  torch  he  carried,  an  edging 
of  dried  bricks  was  built  up  to  the  height  of  a  man  above 
our  heads.  Besting  on  this  edging  and  against  the  wall  of 
the  shaft,  was  a  massive  block  of  stone  sculptured  with  the 
picture  writing  of  the  Aztecs.  I  glanced  at  the  writing, 
which  I  could  now  read  well,  and  saw  that  it  recorded  the 
burying  of  the  treasure  in  the  first  year  of  Cuitlahua, 
Emperor  of  Mexico,  and  also  a  most  fearful  curse  on  him 
who  should  dare  to  steal  it.  Beyond  us  and  at  right  angles 
to  the  shaft  ran  another  passage,  ten  paces  in  length  and  high 
enough  for  a  man  to  walk  in,  which  led  to  a  chamber  hol- 
lowed in  the  earth,  as  large  as  that  wherein  I  write  to-day  at 


THE  BURYING   OF  MONTEZUMA'S   TREASURE    199 

Ditchingham.  By  the  mouth  of  this  chamber  were  placed 
piles  of  adobe  bricks  and  mortar,  much  as  the  blocks  of  hewn 
stone  had  been  placed  in  that  underground  vault  at  Seville 
where  Isabella  de  Siguenza  was  bricked  up  living. 

*  Who  dug  this  place  ?  '  I  asked. 

*  Those  who  knew  not  what  they  dug,'  answered  Guatemoc. 
'  But  see,  here  is  our  companion.     Now,  my  brother,  I  charge 
you  be  surprised  at  nothing  which  comes  to  pass,  and  be  assured 
i  have  good  reason  for  anything  that  I  may  do.' 

Before  I  could  speak  again  the  Aztec  noble  was  at  our 
side.  Then  those  above  began  to  lower  the  jars  and  sacks  of 
treasure,  and  as  they  reached  us  one  by  one,  Guatemoc  loosed 
the  ropes  and  checked  them,  while  the  Aztec  and  I  rolled 
them  down  the  passage  into  the  chamber,  as  here  in  England 
men  roll  a  cask  of  ale.  For  two  hours  and  more  we  worked, 
till  at  length  all  were  down  and  the  tale  was  complete.  The 
last  parcel  to  be  lowered  was  a  sack  of  jewels  that  burst  open 
as  it  came,  and  descended  upon  us  in  a  glittering  rain  of  gems. 
As  it  chanced,  a  great  necklace  of  emeralds  of  surpassing  size 
and  beauty  fell  over  my  head  and  hung  upon  my  shoulders. 

'  Keep  it,  brother,'  laughed  Guatemoc,  *  in  memory  of  this 
night,'  and  nothing  loth,  I  hid  the  bauble  in  my  breast. 
That  necklace  I  have  yet,  and  it  was  a  stone  of  it — the  smallest 
save  one — that  I  gave  to  our  gracious  Queen  Elizabeth. 
Otomie  wore  it  for  many  years,  and  for  this  reason  it  shall  be 
buried  with  me,  though  its  value  is  priceless,  so  say  those 
who  are  skilled  in  gems.  But  priceless  or  no,  it  is  doomed  to 
lie  in  the  mould  of  Ditchingham  churchyard,  and  may  that 
same  curse  which  is  graved  upon  the  stone  that  hides  the 
treasure  of  the  Aztecs  fall  upon  him  who  steals  it  from  my  bones. 

Now,  leaving  the  chamber,  we  three  entered  the  tunnel  and 
began  the  work  of  building  the  adobe  wall.  When  it  was  of 
a  height  of  between  two  and  three  feet,  Guatemoc  paused 
from  his  labour  and  bade  me  hold  a  torch  aloft.  I  obeyed 
wondering  what  he  wished  to  see.  Then  he  drew  back  some 
three  paces  into  the  'tunnel  and  spoke  to  the  Aztec  noble,  our 
companion,  by  name. 

*  What  is  the  fate  of  discovered  traitors,  friend  ?  '  he  said 
in  a  voice  that,  quiet  though  it  was,  sounded  very  terrible ; 
and,  as  he  spoke,  he  loosed  from  his  side  the  war  club  set  with 
spikes  of  glass  that  hung  there  by  a  thong. 

Now  the  Aztec  turned  grey  beneath  his  dusky  skin  and 
trembled  in  his  fear. 

*  What  mean  you,  lord  ?  '  he  gasped. 


200  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

'  You  knoW  well  what  I  mean,'  answered  Guatemoc  in  the 
same  terrible  voice,  and  lifted  the  club. 

Then  the  doomed  man  fell  upon  his  knees  crying  for  mercy, 
and  his  wailing  sounded  so  awful  in  that  deep  and  lonely 
place  that  in  my  horror  I  went  near  to  letting  the  torch  fall. 

*  To  a  foe  I  can  give  mercy — to  a  traitor,  none,'  answered 
Guatemoc,  and  whirling  the  club  aloft,  he  rushed  upon  the 
noble  and  killed  him  with  a  blow.  Then,  seizing  the  body 
in  his  strong  embrace,  he  cast  it  into  the  chamber  with  the 
treasure,  and  there  it  lay  still  and  dreadful  among  the  gems 
and  gold,  the  arms,  as  it  chanced,  being  wound  about  two  of 
the  great  jars  as  though  the  dead  man  would  clasp  them  to 
his  heart. 

Now  I  looked  at  Guatemoc  who  had  slain  him,  wondering 
if  my  hour  was  at  hand  also,  for  I  knew  well  that  when 
princes  bury  their  wealth  they  hold  that  few  should  share  the 
secret. 

'  Fear  not,  my  brother,'  said  Guatemoc.  '  Listen  :  this  man 
was  a  thief,  a  dastard,  and  a  traitor.  As  we  know  now,  he  strove 
twice  to  betray  us  to  the  Teules.  More,  it  was  his  plan  to  show 
this  nest  of  wealth  to  them,  should  they  return  again,  and  to 
share  the  spoil.  All  this  we  learned  from  a  woman  whom  he 
thought  his  love,  but  who  was  in  truth  a  spy  set  to  worm 
herself  into  the  secrets  of  his  wicked  heart.  Now  let  him 
take  his  fill  of  gold  ;  look  how  he  grips  it  even  in  death,  a 
white  man  could  not  hug  the  stuff  more  closely  to  his  breast. 
Ah !  Teule,  would  that  the  soil  of  Anahuac  bore  naught  but 
corn  for  bread  and  flint  and  copper  for  the  points  of  spears 
and  arrows,  then  had  her  sons  been  free  for  ever.  Curses  on 
yonder  dross,  for  it  is  the  bait  that  sets  these  sea  sharks  tear- 
ing at  our  throats.  Curses  on  it,  I  say  ;  may  it  never  glitter 
more  in  the  sunshine,  may  it  be  lost  for  ever  ! '  And  he  fell 
fiercely  to  the  work  of  building  up  the  wall. 

Soon  it  was  almost  done  ;  but  before  we  set  the  last 
bricks,  which  were  shaped  in  squares  like  the  clay  lump  that 
we  use  for  the  building  of  farmeries  and  hinds'  houses  in 
Norfolk,  I  thrust  a  torch  through  the  opening  and  looked  for 
the  last  time  at  the  treasure  chamber  that  was  also  a  dead- 
house.  There  lay  the  glittering  gems ;  there,  stood  upon  a 
jar,  gleamed  the  golden  head  of  Montezuma,  of  which  the 
emerald  eyes  seemed  to  glare  at  me,  and  there,  his  back,  rest- 
ing against  this  same  jar,  and  his  arms  encircling  two  others 
to  the  right  and  left,  was  the  dead  man.  But  he  was  no 
longer  dead,  or  so  it  seemed  to  me  ;  at  the  least  his  eyes  that 


THE  BURYING  OF  MONTEZUMA'S   TREASURE    201 

were  shut  had  opened,  and  they  stared  at  me  like  the  emerald 
eyes  of  the  golden  statue  above  him,  only  more  fearfully. 

Very  hastily  I  withdrew  the  torch,  and  we  finished  in 
silence.  When  it  was  done  we  withdrew  to  the  end  of  the 
passage  and  looked  up  the  shaft,  and  I  for  one  was  glad  to 
see  the  stars  shining  in  heaven  above  me.  Then  we  made  a 
double  loop  in  the  rope,  and  at  a  signal  were  hauled  up  till 
we  hung  over  the  ledge  where  the  black  mass  of  marble 
rested,  the  tombstone  of  Montezuma's  treasure,  and  of  him 
who  sleeps  among  it. 

This  stone,  that  was  nicely  balanced,  we  pushed  with 
our  hands  and  feet  till  presently  it  fell  forward  with  a  heavy 
pound,  and  catching  on  the  ridge«of  brick  which  had  been  pre- 
pared to  receive  it,  shut  the  treasure  shaft  in  such  a  fashion  that 
those  who  would  enter  it  again  must  take  powder  with  them. 

Then  we  were  dragged  up,  and  came  to  the  surface  of  the 
earth  in  safety. 

Now  one  asked  of  the  Aztec  noble  who  had  gone  down 
with  us  and  returned  no  more. 

'  He  has  chosen  to  stay  and  watch  the  treasure,  like  a  good 
and  loyal  man,  till  such  time  as  his  king  needs  it,'  answered 
Guatemoc  grimly,  and  the  listeners  nodded,  understanding  all. 

Then  they  fell  to  and  filled  up  the  narrow  shaft  with  the 
earth  that  lay  ready,  working  without  cease,  and  the  dawn 
broke  before  the  task  was  finished.  When  at  length  the  hole 
was  full,  one  of  our  companions  took  seeds  from  a  bag  and 
scattered  them  on  the  naked  earth,  also  he  set  two  young  trees 
that  he  had  brought  with  him  in  the  soil  of  the  shaft,  though 
why  he  did  this  I  do  not  know,  unless  it  was  to  mark  the  spot. 
All  being  done  we  gathered  up  the  ropes  and  tools,  and  em- 
barking in  the  canoes,  came  back  to  Mexico  in  the  morning, 
leaving  the  canoes  at  a  landing-place  outside  the  city,  and 
finding  our  way  to  our  homes  by  ones  and  twos,  as  we  thought 
unnoticed  of  any. 

Thus  it  was  that  I  helped  in  the  burying  of  Montezuma's 
treasure,  for  the  sake  of  which  I  was  destined  to  suffer  torture 
in  days  to  come.  Whether  any  will  help  to  unbury  it  I  do  not 
know,  but  till  I  left  the  land  of  Anahuac  the  secret  had  been 
kept,  and  I  think  that  then,  except  myself,  all  those  were  dead 
who  laboured  with  me  at  this  task.  It  chanced  that  I  passed 
the  spot  as  I  came  down  to  Mexico  for  the  last  time,  and  knew 
it  again  by  the  two  trees  that  were  growing  tall  and  strong, 
and  as  I  went  by  with  Spaniards  at  my  side,  I  swore  in  my 
heart  that  they  should  never  finger  the  gold  by  my  help.  It 


202  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

is  for  this  reason  that  even  now  I  do  not  write  of  the  exact 
bearings  of  the  place  where  it  lies  buried  with  the  bones  of 
the  traitor,  though  I  know  them  well  enough,  seeing  that  in 
days  to  come  what  I  set  down  here  might  fall  into  the  hands 
of  one  of  their  nation. 

And  now,  before  I  go  on  to  speak  of  the  siege  of  Mexico, 
I  must  tell  of  one  more  matter,  namely  of  how  I  and  Otomie 
my  wife  went  up  among  the  people  of  the  Otomie,  and  won 
a  great  number  of  them  back  to  their  allegiance  to  the  Aztec 
crown.  It  must  be  known,  if  my  tale  has  not  made  this  clear 
already,  that  the  Aztec  power  was  not  of  one  people,  but  built 
up  of  several,  and  that  surrounding  it  were  many  other  tribes, 
some  of  whom  were  in  alliance  with  it  or  subject  to  it,  and 
some  of  whom  were  its  deadly  enemies.  Such  for  instance 
were  the  Tlascalans,  a  small  but  warlike  people  living  between 
Mexico  and  the  coast,  by  whose  help  Cortes  overcame  Monte- 
zuma  and  Guatemoc.  Beyond  the  Tlascalans  and  to  the 
West,  the  great  Otomie  race  lived  or  lives  among  its  mountains. 
They  are  a  braver  nation  than  the  Aztecs,  speaking  another 
language,  of  a  different  blood,  and  made  up  of  many  clans. 
Sometimes  they  were  subject  to  the  great  Aztec  empire, 
sometimes  in  alliance,  and  sometimes  at  open  war  with  it  and 
in  close  friendship  with  the  Tlascalans.  It  was  to  draw  the 
tie  closer  between  the  Aztecs  and  the  Otomies,  who  were  to 
the  inhabitants  of  Anahuac  much  what  the  Scottish  clans 
are  to  the  people  of  England,  that  Montezuma  took  to  wife  the 
daughter  and  sole  legitimate  issue  of  their  great  chief  or  king. 
This  lady  died  in  childbirth,  and  her  child  was  Otomie  my 
wife,  hereditary  princess  of  the  Otomie.  But  though  hei 
rank  was  so  great  among  her  mother's  people,  as  yet  Otomie 
had  visited  them  but  twice,  and  then  as  a  child.  Still,  she 
was  well  skilled  in  their  language  and  customs,  having  beer 
brought  up  by  nurses  and  tutors  of  the  tribes,  from  which  she 
drew  a  great  revenue  every  year  and  over  whom  she  exerciser 
many  rights  of  royalty  that  were  rendered  to  her  far  more 
freely  than  they  had  been  to  Montezuma  her  father. 

Now  as  has  been  said,  some  of  these  Otomie  clans  had 
joined  the  Tlascalans,  and  as  their  allies  had  taken  part  in 
the  war  on  the  side  of  the  Spaniards,  therefore  it  was  decided 
at  a  solemn  council  that  Otomie  and  I  her  husband  should 
go  on  an  embassy  to  the  chief  town  of  the  nation,  that  was 
known  as  the  City  of  Pines,  and  strive  to  win  it  back  to  tho 
Aztec  standard. 


THE  BURYING   OF  MONTEZUMA'S    TREASURE    203 

Accordingly,  heralds  having  been  sent  before  us,  we  staited 
upon  our  journey,  not  knowing  how  we  should  be  received  at 
the  end  of  it.  For  eight  days  we  travelled  in  great  pomp  and 
with  an  ever-increasing  escort,  for  when  the  tribes  of  the 
Otomie  learned  that  their  princess  was  come  to  visit  them  in 
person,  bringing  with  her  her  husband,  a  man  of  the  Teules 
who  had  espoused  the  Aztec  cause,  they  flocked  in  vast  num- 
bers to  swell  her  retinue,  so  that  it  came  to  pass  that  before 
we  reached  the  City  of  Pines  we  were  accompanied  by  an  army 
of  at  least  ten  thousand  mountaineers,  great  men  and  wild,  who 
made  a  savage  music  as  we  marched.  But  with  them  and 
with  their  chiefs  as  yet  we  held  no  converse  except  by  way  of 
formal  greeting,  though  every  morning  when  we  started  on 
our  journey,  Otomie  in  a  litter  and  I  on  a  horse  that  had  been 
captured  from  the  Spaniards,  they  set  up  sliouts  of  salutation 
and  made  the  mountains  ring.  Ever  as  we  went  the  land  like 
its  people  grew  wilder  and  more  beautiful,  for  now  we  were 
passing  through  forests  clad  with  oak  and  pine  and  with 
many  a  lovely  plant  and  fern.  Sometimes  we  crossed  great 
and  sparkling  rivers  and  sometimes  we  wended  through  gorges 
and  passes  of  the  mountains,  but  every  hour  we  mounted 
higher,  till  at  length  the  climate  became  like  that  of  England, 
only  far  more  bright.  At  last  on  the  eighth  day  we  passed 
through  a  gorge  riven  in  the  red  rock,  which  was  so  narrow  in 
places  that  three  horsemen  could  scarcely  have  ridden  there 
abreast.  This  gorge,  that  is  five  miles  long,  is  the  high  road 
to  the  City  of  Pines,  to  which  there  was  no  other  access  except 
by  secret  paths  across  the  mountains,  and  on  either  side  of  it 
are  sheer  and  towering  cliffs  that  rise  to  heights  of  between 
one  and  two  thousand  feet. 

1  Here  is  a  place  where  a  hundred  men  might  hold  an  army 
at  bay,'  I  said  to  Otomie,  little  knowing  that  it  would  be  my 
task  to  do  so  in  a  day  to  come. 

Presently  the  gorge  took  a  turn  and  I  reined  up  amazed, 
for  before  me  was  the  City  of  Pines  in  all  its  beauty.  The  city 
lay  in  a  wheelshaped  plain  that  may  measure  twehe  miles 
across,  and  all  around  this  plain  are  mountains  clad  to  their 
summits  with  forests  of  oak  and  cedar  trees.  At  the  back  of  the 
city  and  in  the  centre  of  the  ring  of  mountains  is  one,  however, 
that  is  not  green  with  foliage  but  black  with  lava,  and  above 
the  lava  white  with  snow,  over  which  again  hangs  a  pillar  of 
smoke  by  day  and  a  pillar  of  fire  by  night.  This  was  the  vol- 
can  Xaca,  or  the  Queen,  and  though  it  is  not  so  lofty  as  its 
sisters  Orizaba,  Popo,  and  Ixtac,  to  my  mind  it  is  the  loveliest 


204  MONTEZUMA*S  DAUGHTER 

of  them  all,  both  because  of  its  perfect  shape,  and  of  the  colours, 
purple  and  blue,  of  the  fires  that  it  sends  forth  at  night  01 
when  its  heart  is  troubled.  The  Otomies  worshipped  this 
mountain  as  a  god,  offering  human  sacrifice  to  it,  which  was 
not  wonderful,  for  once  the  lava  pouring  from  its  bowels  cui 
a  path  through  the  City  of  Pines.  Also  they  think  it  holy  anc 
haunted,  so  that  none  dare  set  foot  upon  its  loftier  snows 
Nevertheless  I  was  destined  to  climb  them — I  and  one  other. 

Now  in  the  lap  of  this  ring  of  mountains  and  watched  ove] 
by  the  mighty  Xaca,  clad  in  its  robe  of  snow,  its  cap  of  smoke 
and  its  crown  of  fire,  lies,  or  rather  lay  the  City  of  Pines,  fo: 
now  it  is  a  ruin,  or  so  I  left  it.     As  to  the  city  itself,  it  wa: 
not  so  large  as  some  others  that  I  have  seen  in  Anahuac 
having  only  a  population  of  some  five  and  thirty  thousand  souls 
since  the  Otomie,  being  a  race  of  mountaineers,  did  not  desirt 
to  dwell  in  cities.   But  if  it  was  not  great,  it  was  the  most  beau 
tiful  of  Indian  towns,  being  laid  out  in  straight  streets  tha ; 
met  at  the  square  in  its  centre.     All  along  these  streets  wer  \ 
houses  each  standing  in  a  garden,  and  for  the  most  part  buih 
of  blocks  of  lava  and  roofed  with  a  cement  of  white  lime.     L  i 
the  midst  of  the  square  stood  the  teocalli  or  pyramid  of  wor- 
ship, crowned  with  temples  that  were  garnished  with  ropes  of 
skulls,  while  beyond  the  pyramid  and  facing  it,  was  the  palace , 
the  home  of  Otomie's  forefathers,  a  long,  low,  and  very  ancient 
building  having  many  courts,  and  sculptured  everywhere  with 
snakes  and  grinning  gods.     Both  the  palace  and  the  pyramid 
were  cased  with  a  fine  white  stone  that  shone  like  silver  in 
the  sunlight,  and   contrasted   strangely  with   the  dark-hue*  I 
houses  that  were  built  of  lava. 

Such  was  the  City  of  Pines  when  I  saw  it  first.  When  [ 
saw  it  last  it  was  but  a  smoking  ruin,  and  now  doubtless  it  is 
the  home  of  bats  and  jackals  ;  now  it  is  *  a  court  for  owls,'  now 
'  the  line  of  confusion  is  stretched  out  upon  it  and  the  stones 
of  emptiness  fill  its  streets.' 

Passing  from  the  mouth  of  the  gorge  we  travelled  some 
miles  across  the  plain,  every  foot  of  which  was  cultivated  with 
corn,  maguey  or  aloe,  and  other  crops,  till  we  came  to  one  c  f 
the  four  gates  of  the  city.  Entering  it  we  found  the  flat  roofs 
on  either  side  of  the  wide  street  crowded  with  hundreds  cf 
women  and  children  who  threw  flowers  on  us  as  we  passed, 
and  cried,  '  Welcome,  princess  !  Welcome,  Otomie,  princess  cf 
the  Otomie  ! '  And  when  at  length  we  reached  the  great  square;, 
it  seemed  as  though  all  the  men  in  Anahuac  were  gathere  1 


THE  BURYING  OF  MONTEZUMA'S    TREASURE    205 

there,  and  they  too  took  up  the  cry  of  '  Welcome,  Otomie,  prin- 
cess of  the  Otomie  !  '  till  the  earth  shook  with  the  sound.  Me 
also  they  saluted  as  I  passed,  by  touching  the  earth  with  their 
right  hands  and  then  holding  the  hand  above  the  head,  but  I 
think  that  the  horse  I  rode  caused  them  more  wonder  than  I 
did,  for  the  most  of  them  had  never  seen  a  horse  and  looked 
on  it  as  a  monster  or  a  demon.  So  we  went  on  through  the 
shouting  mass,  followed  and  preceded  by  thousands  of  warriors, 
many  of  them  decked  in  glittering  feather  mail  and  bearing 
broidered  banners,  till  we  had  passed  the  pyramid,  where  I  saw 
the  priests  at  th^ir  cruel  woik  above  us,  and  were  come  to  the 
palace  gates.  And  here  in  a  strange  chamber  sculptured  with 
grinning  demons  we  found  rest  for  a  while. 

On  the  morrow  in  the  great  hall  of  the  palace  was  held  a 
council  of  the  chiefs  and  head  men  of  the  Otomie  clans,  to  the 
number  of  a  hundred  or  more.  When  all  were  gathered, 
dressed  as  an  Aztec  noble  of  the  first  rank,  I  came  out  with 
Otomie,  who  wore  royal  robes  and  looked  most  beautiful  in 
them,  and  the  council  rose  to  greet  us.  Otomie  bade  them 
be  seated  and  addressed  them  thus  : 

'  Hear  me,  you  chiefs  and  captains  of  my  mother's  race, 
who  am  your  princess  by  right  of  blood,  the  last  of  your 
ancient  rulers,  and  who  am  moreover  the  daughter  of 
Montezuma,  Emperor  of  Anahuac,  now  dead  to  us  but  living 
evermore  in  the  Mansions  of  the  Sun.  First  I  present  to  you 
this  my  husband,  the  lord  Teule,  to  whom  I  was  given  in 
marriage  when  he  held  the  spirit  of  the  god  Tezcat,  and 
whom,  when  he  had  passed  the  altar  of  the  god,  being  chosen 
by  heaven  to  aid  us  in  our  war,  I  wedded  anew  after  the 
fashion  of  the  earth,  and  by  the  will  of  my  royal  brethren. 
Know,  chiefs  and  captains,  that  this  lord,  my  husband,  is  not 
of  our  Indian  blood,  nor  is  he  altogether  of  the  blood  of  the 
Teules  with  whom  we  are  at  war,  but  rather  of  that  of  the 
true  children  of  Quetzal,  the  dwellers  in  a  far  off  northern 
sea  who  are  foes  to  the  Teules.  And  as  they  are  foes,  so  this 
my  lord  is  their  foe,  and  as  doubtless  you  have  heard,  of  all 
the  deeds  of  arms  that  were  wrought  upon  the  night  of  the 
slaying  of  the  Teules,  none  were  greater  than  his,  and  it  was 
he  who  first  discovered  their  retreat. 

4  Chiefs  and  captains  of  the  great  and  ancient  people  of  the 
Otomie,  I  your  princess  have  been  sent  to  you  by  Cuitlahua, 
my  king  and  yours,  together  with  my  lord,  to  plead  with  you 
on  a  certain  matter.  Our  king  has  heard,  and  I  also  have 
heard  with  shame,  that  many  of  the  warriors  of  our  blood 


206  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

have  joined  the  Tlascalans,  who  were  ever  foes  to  the  Aztecs, 
in  their  unholy  alliance  with  the  Teules.  Now  for  a  while 
the  white  men  are  beaten  back,  but  they  have  touched  the 
gold  they  covet,  and  they  will  return  again  like  bees  to  a  half- 
drained  flower.  They  will  return,  yet  of  themselves  they  can 
do  nothing  against  the  glory  of  Tenoctitlan.  But  how  shall  it 
go  if  with  them  come  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  oi 
the  Indian  peoples  ?  I  know  well  that  now  in  this  time  oi 
trouble,  when  kingdoms  crumble,  when  the  air  is  full  oi 
portents,  and  the  very  gods  seem  impotent,  there  are  man} 
who  would  seize  the  moment  and  turn  it  to  their  profit 
There  are  many  men.  and  tribes  who  remember  ancient  wan 
and  wrongs,  and  who  cry,  "  Now  is  the  hour  of  vengeance 
now  we  will  think  on  the  widows  that  the  Aztec  spears  have 
made,  on  the  tribute  which  they  have  wrung  from  our  poverty 
to  swell  their  wealth,  and  011  the  captives  who  have  deckec 
the  altars  of  their  sacrifice  !  " 

'  Is  it  not  so  ?  Ay,  it  is  so,  and  I  cannot  wonder  at  it , 
Yet  I  ask  you  to  remember  this,  that  the  yoke  you  would  helj  > 
to  set  upon  the  neck  of  the  queen  of  cities  will  fit  your  neck 
also.  0  foolish  men,  do  you  think  that  you  shall  be  spared 
when  by  your  aid  Tenoctitlan  is  a  ruin  and  the  Aztecs  ar  3 
no  more  a  people?  I  say  to  you  never.  The  sticks  that 
the  Teules  use  to  beat  out  the  life  of  Tenoctitlan  shall  b  / 
them  be  broken  one  by  one  and  cast  into  the  fire  to  burr. 
If  the  Aztecs  fall,  then  early  or  late  every  tribe  within  this 
wide  land  shall  fall.  They  shall  be  slain,  their  cities  sha"  1 
be  stamped  flat,  their  wealth  shall  be  wrung  from  them,  anl 
their  children  shall  eat  the  bread  of  slavery  and  drink  the 
water  of  affliction.  Choose,  ye  people  of  the  Otomie.  Wi.1 
you  stand  by  the  men  of  your  own  customs  and  country, 
though  they  have  been  your  foes  at  times,  or  will  you  thro'.v 
in  your  lot  with  the  stranger?  Choose,  ye  people  of  tbe 
Otomie,  and  know  this,  that  on  your  choice  and  that  of  tie 
other  men  of  Anahuac,  depends  the  fate  of  Anahuac.  I  am 
your  princess,  and  you  should  obey  me,  but  to-day  I  issi.e 
no  command.  I  say  choose  between  the  alliance  of  the  Aztec 
and  the  yoke  of  the  Teule,  and  may  the  god  above  the  gods, 
the  almighty,  the  invisible  god,  direct  your  choice.' 

Otomie  ceased  and  a  murmur  of  applause  went  round  the 
hall.  Alas,  I  can  do  no  justice  to  the  fire  of  her  words,  any 
more  than  I  can  describe  the  dignity  and  loveliness  of  her 
person  as  it  seemed  in  that  hour.  But  they  went  to  the 
hearts  of  the  rude  chieftains  who  listened.  Many  of  them 


THE  BURYING  OF  MONTEZUMA'S   TREASURE    207 

despised  the  Aztecs  as  a  womanish  people  of  the  plains  and 
the  lakes,  a  people  of  commerce.  Many  had  blood  feuds 
against  them  dating  back  for  generations.  But  still  they 
knew  that  their  princess  spoke  truth,  and  that  the  triumph 
of  the  Teule  in  Tenoctitlan  would  mean  his  triumph  over 
every  city  throughout  the  land.  So  then  and  there  they 
chose,  though  in  after  days,  in  the  stress  of  defeat  and  trouble, 
many  went  back  upon  their  choice  as  is  the  fashion  of  men. 

*  Otomie,'  cried  their  spokesman,  after  they  had  taken 
counsel  together, '  we  have  chosen.  Princess,  your  words  have 
conquered  us.  We  throw  in  our  lot  with  the  Aztecs  and  will 
fight  to  the  last  for  freedom  from  the  Teule.' 

'  Now  I  see  that  you  are  indeed  my  people,  and  I  am 
indeed  your  ruler,'  answered  Otomie.  '  So  the  great  lords  who 
are  gone,  my  forefathers,  your  chieftains,  would  have  spoken 
in  a  like  case.  May  you  never  regret  this  choice,  my  brethren, 
Men  of  the  Otomie.' 

And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  when  we  left  the  City  of  Pines 
we  took  from  it  to  Cuitlahua  the  emperor,  a  promise  of  an 
army  of  twenty  thousand  men  vowed  to  serve  him  to  the 
death  in  his  war  against  the  Spaniard. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE    CROWNING   OF   GUATEMOC 

OUR  business  with  the  people  of  the  Otomie  being  ended  for  a 
while,  we  returned  to  the  city  of  Tenoctitlan,  which  we  reached 
safely,  having  been  absent  a  month  and  a  day.  It  was  but  a 
little  time,  and  yet  long  enough  for  fresh  sorrows  to  have 
fallen  on  that  most  unhappy  town.  For  now  the  Almighty 
had  added  to  the  burdens  which  were  laid  upon  her.  She  had 
tasted  of  death  by  the  sword  of  the  white  man,  now  death  was 
with  her  in  another  shape.  For  the  Spaniard  had  brought 
the  foul  sicknesses  of  Europe  with  him,  and  small-pox  raged 
throughout  the  land.  Day  by  day  thousands  perished  of  it,  for 
these  ignorant  people  treated  the  plague  by  pouring  cold  water 
upon  the  bodies  of  those  smitten,  driving  the  fever  inwards 
to  the  vitals,  so  that  within  two  days  the  most  of  them  died.1 

1  This  treatment  is  followed  among  the  Indians  of  Mexico  to  this 
day,  but  if  the  writer  may  believe  what  he  heard  in  that  country,  the 
patient  is  frequently  cured  by  it. 


208  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

It  was  pitiful  to  see  them  maddened  with  suffering,  as  they 
wandered  to  and  fro  about  the  streets,  spreading  the  dis- 
temper far  and  wide.  They  were  dying  in  the  houses,  they  lay 
dead  by  companies  in  the  market  places  awaiting  burial,  for  the 
sickness  took  its  toll  of  every  family,  the  very  priests  were 
smitten  by  it  at  the  altar  as  they  sacrificed  children  to  appease 
the  anger  of  the  gods.  But  the  worst  is  still  to  tell ;  Cuitlahua, 
the  emperor,  was  struck  down  by  the  illness,  and  when  we 
reached  the  city  he  lay  dying.  Still,  he  desired  to  see  us,  and 
sent  commands  that  we  should  be  brought  to  his  bedside. 
In  vain  did  I  pray  Otomie  not  to  obey ;  she,  who  was  without 
fear,  laughed  at  me,  saying,  *  What,  my  husband,  shall  I  shrink 
from  that  which  you  must  face  ?  Come,  let  us  go  and  make 
report  of  our  mission.  If  the  sickness  takes  me  and  I  die,  it 
will  be  because  my  hour  has  come.' 

So  we  went  and  were  ushered  into  a  chamber  where 
Cuitlahua  lay  covered  by  a  sheet,  as  though  he  were  already 
dead,  and  with  incense  burning  round  him  in  golden  censers. 
When  we  entered  he  was  in  a  stupor,  but  presently  he  awoke, 
and  it  was  announced  to  him  that  we  waited. 

'  Welcome,  niece,'  he  said,  speaking  through  the  sheet  and 
in  a  thick  voice  ;  '  you  find  me  in  an  evil  case,  for  my  days  are 
numbered,  the  pestilence  of  the  Teules  slays  those  whom 
their  swords  spared.  Soon  another  monarch  must  take  m) 
throne,  as  I  took  your  father's,  and  I  do  not  altogether  grieve, 
for  on  him  will  rest  the  glory  and  the  burden  of  the  Ias1 
fight  of  the  Aztecs.  Your  report,  niece  ;  let  me  hear  it  swiftly 
Wliat  say  the  clans  of  the  Otomie,  your  vassals  ?  ' 

'  My  lord,'  Otomie  answered,  speaking  humbly  and  witr 
bowed  head,  '  may  this  distemper  leave  you,  and  may  you  live 
to  reign  over  us  for  many  years  !  My  lord,  my  husband  Teulo 
and  I  have  won  back  the  most  part  of  the  people  of  the  Otomio 
to  our  cause  and  standard.  An  army  of  twenty  thousand 
mountain  men  waits  upon  your  word,  and  when  those  aro 
spent  there  are  more  to  follow.' 

'  Well  done,  daughter  of  Montezuma,  and  you,  white  man,' 
gasped  the  dying  king.  '  The  gods  were  wise  when  they  refused 
you  both  upon  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  and  I  was  foolish  when 
I  would  have  slain  you,  Teule.  To  you  and  all  I  say  be  of  si 
steadfast  heart,  and  if  you  must  die,  then  die  with  honour. 
The  fray  draws  on,  but  I  shall  not  share  it,  and  who  know;3 
its  end  ?  ' 

Now  he  lay  silent  for  a  while,  then  of  a  sudden,  as  though 
an  inspiration  had  seized  him,  he  cast  the  sheet  from  his  faco 


THE  CROWNING   OF  GUATEMOC  209 

and  sat  up  upon  his  couch,  no  pleasant  sight  to  see,  for  the 
pestilence  had  done  its  worst  with  him. 

'  Alas  ! '  he  wailed,  '  and  alas  !  I  see  the  streets  of 
Tenoctitlan  red  with  blood  and  fire,  I  see  her  dead  piled  up 
in  heaps,  and  the  horses  of  the  Teules  trample  them.  I  see 
the  Spirit  of  my  people,  and  her  voice  is  sighing  and  her 
neck  is  heavy  with  chains.  The  children  are  visited  because 
of  the  evil  of  the  fathers.  Ye  are  doomed,  people  of  Anahuuc, 
whom  I  would  have  nurtured  as  an  eagle  nurtures  her  young. 
Hell  yawns  for  you  and  Earth  refuses  you  because  of  your 
sins,  and  the  remnant  that  remains  shall  be  slaves  from  gene- 
ration to  generation,  till  the  vengeance  is  accomplished  ! ' 

Having  cried  thus  with  a  great  voice,  Cuitlahua  fell  back 
upon  the  cushions,  and  before  the  frightened  leech  who  tended 
him  could  lift  his  head,  he  had  passed  beyond  the  troubles  of 
this  earth.  But  the  words  which  he  had  spoken  remained 
fixed  in  the  hearts  of  those  who  heard  them,  though  they  were 
told  to  none  except  to  Guatemoc. 

Thus  then  in  my  presence  and  in  that  of  Otomie  died  Cuit- 
lahua, emperor  of  the  Aztecs,  when  he  had  reigned  but  fifteen 
weeks.  Once  more  the  nation  mourned  its  king,  the  chief  of 
many  a  thousand  of  its  children  whom  the  pestilence  swept 
with  him  to  the  *  Mansions  of  the  Sun,'  or  perchance  to  the 
'  darkness  behind  the  Stars.' 

But  the  mourning  was  not  for  long,  for  in  the  urgency  of 
the  times  it  was  necessary  that  a  new  emperor  should  be 
crowned  to  take  command  of  the  armies  and  rule  the  nation. 
Therefore  on  the  morrow  of  the  burial  of  Cuitlahua  the 
council  of  the  four  electors  was  convened,  and  with  them 
lesser  nobles  and  princes  to  the  number  of  three  hundred,  and 
I  among  them  in  the  right  of  my  rank  as  general,  and  as 
husband  of  the  princess  Otomie.  There  was  no  great  need  of 
deliberation,  indeed,  for  though  the  names  of  several  were 
mentioned,  the  princes  knew  that  there  was  but  one  man 
who  by  birth,  by  courage,  and  nobility  of  mind,  was  fitted  to 
cope  with  the  troubles  of  the  nation.  That  man  was  Guatemoc, 
my  friend  and  blood  brother,  the  nephew  of  the  two  last 
emperors  and  the  husband  of  my  wife's  sister,  Montezuma's 
daughter,  Tecuichpo.  All  knew  it,  I  say,  except,  strangely 
enough,  Guatemoc  himself,  for  as  we  passed  into  the  council 
he  named  two  other  princes,  saying  that  without  doubt  the 
choice  lay  between  them. 

It  was  a  splendid  and  a  solemn  sight,  that  gathering  of  the 

p 


210  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

four  great  lords,  the  electors,  dressed  in  their  magnificent 
robes,  and  of  the  lesser  council  of  confirmation  of  three 
hundred  lords  and  princes,  who  sat  without  the  circle  but  in 
hearing  of  all  that  passed.  Very  solemn  also  was  the  prayer 
of  the  high  priest,  who,  clad  in  his  robes  of  sable,  seemed  like 
a  blot  of  ink  dropped  on  a  glitter  of  gold.  Thus  he  prayed  : 

'  0  god,  thou  who  art  everywhere  and  seest  all,  knowest 
that  Cuitlahua  our  king  is  gathered  to  thee.  Thou  hast  set 
him  beneath  thy  footstool  and  there  he  rests  in  his  rest.  He 
has  travelled  that  road  which  we  must  travel  every  one,  he 
has  reached  the  royal  inhabitations  of  our  dead,  the  home  of 
everlasting  shadows.  There  where  none  shall  trouble  him 
he  is  sunk  in  sleep.  His  brief  labours  are  accomplished,  and 
soiled  with  sin  and  sorrow,  he  has  gone  to  thee.  Thou 
gavest  him  joys  to  taste  but  not  to  drink  ;  the  glory  oJ 
empire  passed  before  his  eyes  like  the  madness  of  a  dream 
With  tears  and  with  prayers  to  thee  he  took  up  his  load,  with 
happiness  he  laid  it  down.  Where  his  forefathers  went,  thithei 
he  has  followed,  nor  can  he  return  to  us.  Our  fire  is  ar 
ash  and  our  lamp  is  darkness.  Those  who  wore  his  purple 
before  him  bequeathed  to  him  the  intolerable  weight  of  rule 
and  he  in  his  turn  bequeaths  it  to  another.  Truly,  he  shoulc 
give  thee  praise,  thou  king  of  kings,  master  of  the  stars 
that  standest  alone,  who  hast  lifted  from  his  shoulders  so 
great  a  burden,  and  from  his  brow*  this  crown  of  woes, 
paying  him  peace  for  war  and  rest  for  labour. 

'  0  god  our  hops,  choose  now  a  servant  to  succeed  him,  tj 
man  after  thine  own  heart,  who  shall  not  fear  nor  falter,  who 
shall  toil  and  not  be  weary,  who  shall  lead  thy  people  as  a 
mother  leads  her  children.  Lord  of  lords,  give  grace  to  Guate- 
moc  thy  creature,  who  is  our  choice.  Seal  him  to  thy  service, 
and  as  thy  priest  let  him  sit  upon  thy  earthly  throne  for  his 
life  days.  Let  thy  foes  become  his  footstool,  let  him  exalt  thy 
glory,  proclaim  thy  worship,  and  protect  thy  kingdom.  Thus 
have  I  prayed  to  thee  in  the  name  of  the  nation.  0  god,  thy 
will  be  done ! ' 

When  the  high  priest  had  made  an  end  of  his  prayer,  the 
first  of  the  four  great  electors  rose,  saying : 

*  Guatemoc,  in  the  name  of  god  and  with  the  voice  of  the 
people  of  Anahuac,  we  summon  you  to  the  throne  of  Anahuao. 
Long  may  you  live  and  justly  may  you  rule,  and  may  the 
glory  be  yours  of  beating  back  into  the  sea  those  foes  who 
would  destroy  us.  Hail  to  you,  Guatemoc,  Emperor  of  the 
Aztecs  and  of  their  vassal  tribes.'  And  all  the  three  hundred 


THE  CROWNING   OF   GUATEMOC  211 

of  the  council  of  confirmation  repeated  in  a  voice  of  thunder, 
'  Hail  to  you,  Guatemoc,  Emperor  \ ' 

Now  the  prince  himself  stood  forward  and  spoke  : 

'  You  lords  of  election,  and  you,  princes,  generals,  nobles 
and  captains  of  the  council  of  confirmation,  hear  me.  May 
the  gods  be  my  witness  that  when  I  entered  this  place  I  had 
no  thought  or  knowledge  that  I  was  destined  to  so  high  an 
honour  as  that  which  you  would  thrust  upon  me.  And  may 
the  gods  be  my  witness  again  that  were  my  life  my  own,  and 
not  a  trust  in  the  hands  of  this  people,  I  would  say  to  you, 
"  Seek  on  and  find  one  worthier  to  fill  the  throne."  But  my 
life  is  not  my  own.  Anahuac  calls  her  son  and  I  obey  the 
call.  War  to  the  death  threatens  her,  and  shall  I  hang 
back  while  my  arm  has  strength  to  smite  and  my  brain  has 
power  to  plan  ?  Not  so.  Now  and  henceforth  I  vow  myself 
to  the  service  of  my  country  and  to  war  against  the  Teules. 
I  will  make  no  peace  with  them,  I  will  take  no  rest  till  they 
are  driven  back  whence  they  came,  or  till  I  am  dead  beneath 
their  swords.  None  can  say  what  the  gods  have  in  store  for 
us,  it  may  be  victory  or  it  may  be  destruction,  but  be  it  triumph 
or  death,  let  us  swear  a  great  oath  together,  my  people  and 
my  brethren.  Let  us  swear  to  fight  the  Teules  and  the 
traitors  who  abet  them,  for  our  cities,  our  hearths  and  our 
altars  ;  till  the  cities  are  a  smoking  ruin,  till  the  hearths  are 
cumbered  with  their  dead,  and  the  altars  run  red  with  the 
blood  of  their  worshippers.  So,  if  we  are  destined  to  conquer, 
our  triumph  shall  be  made  sure,  and  if  we  are  doomed  to  fail, 
at  least  there  will  be  a  story  to  be  told  of  us.  Do  you  swear, 
my  people  and  my  brethren  ?  ' 

*  We  swear,'  they  answered  with  a  shout. 

'  It  is  well,'  said  Guatemoc.  '  And  now  may  everlasting 
shame  overtake  him  who  breaks  this  oath.' 

Thus  then  was  Guatemoc,  the  last  and  greatest  of  the 
Aztec  emperors,  elected  to  the  throne  of  his  forefathers.  It  was 
happy  for  him  that  he  could  not  foresee  that  dreadful  day 
when  he,  the  noblest  of  men,  must  meet  a  felon's  doom  at  the 
hand  of  these  very  Teules.  Yet  so  it  came  about,  for  the 
destiny  that  lay  upon  the  land  smote  all  alike,  indeed  the 
greater  the  man  the  more  certain  was  his  fate. 

When  all  was  done  I  hurried  to  the  palace  to  tell  Otomie 
what  had  come  to  pass,  and  found  her  in  our  sleeping  chamber 
lying  on  her  bed. 

'  What  ails  you,  Otomie  ? '  I  asked. 

*  2 


212  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

'  Alas !  my  husband,'  she  answered,  '  the  pestilence  has 
stricken  me.  Come  not  near,  I  pray  you,  come  not  near.  Let 
me  be  nursed  by  the  women.  You  shall  not  risk  your  life  for 
me,  beloved.' 

'  Peace,'  I  said  and  came  to  her.  It  was  too  true,  I  who 
am  a  physician  knew  the  symptoms  well.  Indeed  had  it  not 
been  for  my  skill,  Otomie  would  have  died.  For  three  long 
weeks  I  fought  with  death  at  her  bedside,  and  in  the  end  I 
conquered.  The  fever  left  her,  and  thanks  to  my  treatment, 
there  was  no  single  scar  upon  her  lovely  face.  During  eight 
days  her  mind  wandered  without  ceasing,  and  it  was  then  I 
learned  how  deep  and  perfect  was  her  love  for  me.  For  all  this 
while  she  did  nothing  but  rave  of  me,  and  the  secret  terror  of 
her  heart  was  disclosed — that  I  should  cease  to  care  for  her,  that 
her  beauty  and  love  might  pall  upon  me  so  that  I  should  leave 
her,  that  '  the  flower  maid,'  for  so  she  named  Lily,  who  dwelt 
across  the  sea  should  draw  me  back  to  her  by  magic  ;  this 
was  the  burden  of  her  madness.  At  length  her  senses  returned 
and  she  spoke,  saying  : 

'  How  long  have  I  lain  ill,  husband  ?  ' 

I  told  her  and  she  said,  '  And  have  you  nursed  me  all  this 
while,  and  through  so  foul  a  sickness  ?  ' 

1  Yes,  Otomie,  I  have  tended  you.' 

'  What  have  I  done  that  you  should  be  so  good  to  me  ?  ' 
she  murmured.  Then  some  dreadful  thought  seemed  to  strike 
her,  for  she  moaned  as  though  in  pain,  and  said,  *  A  mirror  ! 
Swift,  bring  me  a  mirror ! ' 

I  gave  her  one,  and  rising  on  her  arm,  eagerly  she  scanned 
her  face  in  the  dim  light  of  the  shadowed  room,  then  let  the 
plate  of  burnished  gold  fall,  and  sank  back  with  a  faint  and 
happy  cry  : 

'  I  feared,'  she  said,  '  I  feared  that  I  had  become  hideous 
as  those  are  whom  the  pestilence  has  smitten,  and  that  you 
would  cease  to  love  me,  than  which  it  had  been  better  to  die.' 

*  For  shame,'  I  said.  '  Do  you  then  think  that  love  can 
be  frightened  away  by  some  few  scars  ?  ' 

'  Yes,'  Otomie  answered,  '  that  is  the  love  of  a  man  ;  not 
such  love  as  mine,  husband.  Had  I  been  thus — ah !  1 
shudder  to  think  of  it — within  a  year  you  would  have  hated 
me.  Perhaps  it  had  not  been  so  with  another,  the  fair  maid 
of  far  away,  but  me  you  would  have  hated.  Nay,  I  know 
it,  though  I  know  this  also,  that  I  should  not  have  lived  to 
feel  your  hate.  Oh  !  I  am  thankful,  thankful.' 

Then  I  left  her  for  a  while,  marvelling  at  the  great  love 


THE  CROWNING   OF  GUATEMOC  213 

which  she  had  given  me,  and  wondering  also  if  there  was  any 
truth  in  her  words,  and  if  the  heart  of  man  could  be  so  un- 
grateful and  so  vile.  Supposing  that  Otomie  was  now  as  many 
were  who  walked  the  streets  of  Tenoctitlan  that  day,  a  mass 
of  dreadful  scars,  hairless,  and  with  blind  and  whitened 
eyeballs,  should  I  then  have  shrunk  from  her?  I  do  not 
know,  and  I  thank  heaven  that  no  such  trial  was  put  upon 
my  constancy.  But  I  am  sure  of  this  ;  had  I  become  a  leper 
even,  Otomie  would  not  have  shrunk  from  me. 

So  Otomie  recovered  from  her  great  sickness,  and  shortly 
afterwards  the  pestilence  passed  away  from  Tenoctitlan.  And 
now  I  had  many  other  things  to  think  of,  for  the  choosing  of 
Guatemoc — my  friend  and  blood  brother — as  emperor  meant 
much  advancement  to  me,  who  was  made  a  general  of  the 
highest  class,  and  a  principal  adviser  in  his  councils.  Nor 
did  I  spare  myself  in  his  service,  but  laboured  by  day  and 
night  in  the  work  of  preparing  the  city  for  siege,  and  in  the 
marshalling  of  the  troops,  and  more  especially  of  that  army 
of  Otoniies,  who  came,  as  they  had  promised,  to  the  number 
of  twenty  thousand.  The  work  was  hard  indeed,  for  these 
Indian  tribes  lacked  discipline  and  powers  of  unity,  without 
which  their  thousands  were  of  little  avail  in  a  war  with  white 
men.  Also  there  were  great  jealousies  between  their  leaders 
which  must  be  overcome,  and  I  was  myself  an  object  of 
jealousy.  Moreover,  many  tribes  took  this  occasion  of  the 
trouble  of  the  Aztecs  to  throw  off  their  allegiance  or  vassalage, 
and  even  if  they  did  not  join  the  Spaniards,  to  remain  neutral 
watching  for  the  event  of  the  war.  Still  we  laboured  on, 
dividing  the  armies  into  regiments  after  the  fashion  of  Europe, 
and  stationing  each  in  its  own  quarter  ;  drilling  them  to  the 
better  use  of  arms,  provisioning  the  city  for  a  siege,  and 
weeding  out  as  many  useless  mouths  as  we  might ;  and  there 
was  but  one  man  in  Tenoctitlan  who  toiled  at  these  tasks  more 
heavily  than  I,  and  that  was  Guatemoc  the  emperor,  who 
did  not  rest  day  or  night.  I  tried  even  to  make  powder  with 
sulphur  which  was  brought  from  the  throat  of  the  volcan  Popo, 
but,  having  no  knowledge  of  that  art,  I  failed.  Indeed,  it  would 
have  availed  us  little  had  I  succeeded,  for  having  neither  arque- 
busses  nor  cannons,  and  no  skill  to  cast  them,  we  could  only 
have  used  it  in  mining  roads  and  gateways,  and,  perhaps,  in 
grenades  to  be  thrown  with  the  hand. 

And  so  the  months  went  on,  till  at  length  spies  came  in 
with  the  tidings  that  the  Spaniards  were  advancing  in  numbers, 
and  with  them  countless  hosts  of  allies. 


214  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

Now  I  would  have  sent  Otomie  to  seek  safety  among  her 
own  people,  but  she  laughed  me  to  scorn,  and  said  : 

'  Where  you  are,  there  I  will  be,  husband.  What,  shall  it 
be  suffered  that  you  face  death,  perhaps  to  find  him,  when  I 
am  not  at  your  side  to  die  with  you  ?  If  that  is  the  fashion 
of  white  women,  I  leave  it  to  them,  beloved,  and  here  with 
you  I  stay.' 


CHAPTEK  XXVII 

THE    FALL    OF    TENOCTITLAN 

Now  shortly  after  Christmas,  having  marched  from  the  coast 
with  a  great  array  of  Spaniards,  for  many  had  joined  his 
banner  from  over  sea,  and  tens  of  thousands  of  native  allies, 
Cortes  took  up  his  head  quarters  at  Tezcuco  in  the  valley  of 
Mexico.  This  town  is  situated  near  the  borders  of  the  lake, 
at  a  distance  of  several  leagues  from  Tenoctitlan,  and  being  on 
the  edge  of  the  territory  of  the  Tlascalans  his  allies,  it  was  most 
suitable  to  Cortes  as  a  base  of  action.  And  then  began  one  of 
the  most  terrible  wars  that  the  world  has  seen.  For  eight 
months  it  raged,  and  when  it  ceased  at  length,  Tenoctitlan, 
and  with  it  many  other  beautiful  and  populous  towns,  were 
blackened  ruins,  the  most  of  the  Aztecs  were  dead  by  sword 
and  famine,  and  their  nation  was  crushed  for  ever.  Of  all 
the  details  of  this  war  I  do  not  purpose  to  write,  for  were  I  co 
do  so,  there  would  be  no  end  to  this  book,  and  I  have  my  own 
tale  to  tell.  These,  therefore,  I  leave  to  the  maker  of  histories. 
Let  it  be  enough  to  say  that  the  plan  of  Cortes  was  to  destroy 
all  her  vassal  and  allied  cities  and  peoples  before  he  grappled 
with  Mexico,  queen  of  the  valley,  and  this  he  set  himself  to 
do  with  a  skill,  a  valour,  and  a  straightness  of  purpose,  such  as 
have  scarcely  been  shown  by  a  general  since  the  days  of  Caesar, 
Iztapalapan  was  the  first  to  fall,  and  here  ten  thousand 
men,  women,  and  children  were  put  to  the  sword  or  burnec. 
alive.  Then  came  the  turn  of  the  others  ;  one  by  one  Cortes 
reduced  the  cities  till  the  whole  girdle  of  them  was  in  his 
hand,  and  Tenoctitlan  alone  remained  untouched.  Many 
indeed  surrendered,  for  the  nations  of  Anahuac  being  of 
various  blood  were  but  as  a  bundle  of  reeds  and  not  as  a  tree. 
Thus  when  the  power  of  Spain  cut  the  band  of  empire  thai 
bound  them  together,  they  fell  this  way  and  that,  having  no 
unity.  So  it  came  about  that  as  the  power  of  Guatemoo 
weakened  that  of  Cortes  increased,  for  he  garnered  theso 


THE  FALL   OF  TENOCTITLAN  215 

loosened  reeds  into  his  basket.  And,  indeed,  now  that  the 
people  saw  that  Mexico  had  met  her  match,  many  an  ancient 
hate  and  smouldering  rivalry  broke  into  flame,  and  they  fell 
upon  her  and  tore  her,  like  half -tamed  wolves  upon  their  master 
when  his  scourge  is  broken.  It  was  this  that  brought  about 
the  fall  of  Anahuac.  Had  she  remained  true  to  herself,  had 
she  forgotten  her  feuds  and  jealousies  and  stood  against  the 
Spaniards  as  one  man,  then  Tenoctitlan  would  never  have 
fallen,  and  Cortes  with  every  Teule  in  his  company  had  been 
stretched  upon  the  stone  of  sacrifice. 

Did  I  not  say  when  I  took  up  my  pen  to  write  this  book  that 
every  wrong  revenges  itself  at  last  upon  the  man  or  the  people 
that  wrought  it  ?  So  it  was  now.  Mexico  was  destroyed 
because  of  the  abomination  of  the  worship  of  her  gods.  These 
feuds  between  the  allied  peoples  had  their  root  in  the  horrible 
rites  of  human  sacrifice.  At  some  time  in  the  past,  from  all 
these  cities  captives  had  been  dragged  to  the  altars  of  the 
gods  of  Mexico,  there  to  be  slaughtered  and  devoured  by  the 
cannibal  worshippers.  Now  these  outrages  were  remembered, 
now  when  the  arm  of  the  queen  of  the  valley  was  withered, 
the  children  of  those  whom  she  had  slain  rose  up  to  slay  her 
and  to  drag  her  children  to  their  altars. 

By  the  month  of  May,  strive  as  we  would,  and  never  was 
a  more  gallant  fight  made,  all  our  allies  were  crushed  or 
had  desei  ted  us,  and  the  siege  of  the  city  began.  It  began 
by  land  and  by  water,  for  with  incredible  resource  Cortes 
caused  tliirteen  brigantines  of  war  to  be  constructed  in  Tlas- 
cala,  and  conveyed  in  pieces  for  twenty  leagues  across  the 
mountains  to  his  camp,  whence  they  were  floated  into  the 
lake  through  a  canal,  which  was  hollowed  out  by  the 
labour  of  ten  thousand  Indians,  who  worked  at  it  without 
cease  for  two  months.  The  bearers  of  these  brigantines  were 
escorted  by  an  army  of  twenty  thousand  Tlascalans,  and  if  I 
could  have  had  my  way  that  army  should  have  been  attacked 
in  the  mountain  passes.  So  thought  Guatemoc  also,  but  there 
were  few  troops  to  spare,  for  the  most  of  our  force  had  been 
despatched  to  threaten  a  city  named  Chalco,  that,  though 
its  people  were  of  the  Aztec  blood,  had  not  been  ashamed  to 
desert  the  Aztec  cause.  Still  I  offered  to  lead  the  twenty 
thousand  Otomies  whom  I  commanded  against  the  Tlascalan 
convoy,  and  the  matter  was  debated  hotly  at  a  council  of  war. 
But  the  most  of  the  council  were  against  the  risking  of  an 
engagement  with  the  Spaniards  and  their  allies  so  far  from 
the  city,  and  thus  the  opportunity  went  by  to  return  no  more. 


2i6  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

It  was  an  evil  fortune  like  the  rest,  for  in  the  end  thes< 
brigantines  brought  about  the  fall  of  Tenoctitlan  by  cutting 
off  the  supply  of  food,  which  was  carried  in  canoes  across 
the  lake.    Alas  !  the  bravest  can  do  nothing  against  the  powe: 
of  famine.     Hunger  is  a  very  great  man,  as  the  Indians  say. 
Now  the  Aztecs  fighting  alone  were  face  to  face  with  the! 
foes  and  the  last  struggle  began.     First  the  Spaniards  cut  the 
aqueduct  which  supplied  the  city  with  water  from  the  spring; 
at  the  royal  house  of  Chapoltepec,  whither  I  was  taken  01 
being  brought   to   Mexico.     Henceforth  till  the  end  of  th< 
siege,  the  only  water  that  we  found  to  drink  was  the  brackisl 
and  muddy  fluid  furnished  by  the  lake  and  wells  sunk  in  th< 
soil.     Although  it  might  be  drunk  after  boiling  to  free  it  o ' 
the  salt,  it  was  unwholesome  and  filthy  to  the  taste,  breeding 
various  painful  sicknesses  and  fevers.     It  was  on  this  day  o  ' 
the  cutting  of  the  aqueduct  that  Otomie  bore  me  a  son,  ou :• 
first-born.     Already  the  hardships  of  the  siege  were  so  grea ; 
and  nourishing  food  so  scarce,  that  had  she  been  less  strong . 
or  had  I  possessed  less  skill  in  medicine,  I  think  that  she  would 
have  died.    Still  she  recovered  to  my  great  thankfulness  and  joy , 
and  though  I  am  no  clerk  I  baptized  the  boy  into  the  Christian 
Church  with  my  own  hand,  naming  him  Thomas  after  me. 

Now  day  by  day  and  week  by  week  the  fighting  went  on 
with  varying  success,  sometimes  in  the  suburbs  of  the  city, 
sometimes  on  the  lake,  and  sometimes  in  the  very  streets. 
Time  on  time  the  Spaniards  were  driven  back  with  loss,  tinn  j 
on  time  they  advanced  again  from  their  different  camps.  Onco 
we  captured  sixty  of  them  and  more  than  a  thousand  of  thei* 
allies.  All  these  were  sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  Huitzel,  and 
given  over  to  be  devoured  by  the  Aztecs  according  to  the  beast - 
like  custom  which  in  Anahuac  enjoined  the  eating  of  the  bodien 
of  those  who  were  offered  to  the  gods,  not  because  the  Indiana 
love  such  meat  but  for  a  secret  religious  reason. 

In  vain  did  I  pray  Guatemoc  to  forego  this  horror. 

*  Is  this  a  time  for  gentleness  ?  '  he  answered  fiercely.  *  I 
cannot  save  them  from  the  altar,  and  I  would  not  if  I  could . 
Let  the  dogs  die  according  to  the  custom  of  the  land,  and  to 
you,  Teule  my  brother,  I  say  presume  not  too  far.' 

Alas  !  the  heart  of  Guatemoc  grew  ever  fiercer  as  the 
struggle  wore  on,  and  indeed  it  Avas  little  to  be  wondered  at. 

This  was  the  dreadful  plan  of  Cortes  ;  to  destroy  the  city 
piecemeal  as  he  advanced  towards  its  heart,  and  it  was  car- 
ried out  without  mercy.  So  soon  as  the  Spaniards  got  footing 
in  a  quarter,  thousands  of  the  Tlascalans  were  set  to  work  to 


THE  FALL   OF   TENOCTITLAN  217 

fire  the  houses  and  burn  all  in  them  alive.  Before  the  siege 
was  done  Tenoctitlan,  queen  of  the  valley,  was  but  a  heap  of 
blackened  ruins.  Cortes  might  have  cried  over  Mexico  with 
Isaiah  the  prophet :  '  Thy  pomp  is  brought  down  to  the  grave, 
and  the  noise  of  thy  viols :  the  worm  is  spread  under  thee 
and  the  worms  cover  thee.  How  art  thou  fallen  from  heaven, 

0  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning !  how  art  thou  cut  down  to  the 
ground  which  didst  weaken  the  nations  ! ' 

In  all  these  fights  I  took  my  part,  though  it  does  not 
become  me  to  boast  my  prowess.  Still  the  Spaniards  knew 
me  well  and  they  had  good  reason.  Whenever  they  saw 
me  they  would  greet  me  with  revilings,  calling  me  '  traitor 
and  renegade,'  and  '  Guatemoc's  white  dog,'  and  moreover, 
Cortes  set  a  price  upon  my  head,  for  he  knew  through  his  spies 
that  some  of  Guatemoc's  most  successful  attacks  and  strata- 
gems had  been  of  my  devising.  But  I  took  no  heed  even  when 
their  insults  pierced  me  like  arrows,  for  though  many  of  the 
Aztecs  were  my  friends  and  I  hated  the  Spaniards,  it  was  a 
shameful  thing  that  a  Christian  man  should  be  warring  on  the 
side  of  cannibals  who  made  human  sacrifice.  I  took  no  heed, 
since  always  I  was  seeking  for  my  foe  de  Garcia.  He  was  there 

1  knew,  for  I  saw  him  many  times,  but  I  could  never  come  at 
him.     Indeed,  if  I  watched  for  him  he  also  watched  for  me, 
but  with  another  purpose,  to  avoid  me.     For  now  as  of  old 
de  Garcia  feared  me,  now  as  of  old  he  believed  that  I  should 
bring  his  death  upon  him. 

It  was  the  custom  of  warriors  in  the  opposing  armies  to 
send  challenges  to  single  combat,  one  to  another,  and  many 
such  duels  were  fought  in  the  sight  of  all,  safe  conduct  being 
given  to  the  combatants  and  their  seconds.  Upon  a  day, 
despairing  of  meeting  him  face  to  face  in  battle,  I  sent  a  chal- 
lenge to  de  Garcia  by  a  herald,  under  his  false  name  of 
Sarceda.  In  an  hour  the  herald  returned  with  this  message 
written  on  paper  in  Spanish  : 

*  Christian  men  do  not  fight  duels  with  renegade  heathen 
dogs,  white  worshippers  of  devils  and  eaters  of  human  flesh. 
There  is  but  one  weapon  which  such  cannot  defile,  a  rope, 
and  it  waits  for  you,  Thomas  Wingfield.' 

I  tore  the  writing  to  pieces  and  stamped  upon  it  in  my 
rage,  for  now,  to  all  his  other  crimes  against  me,  de  Garcia 
had  added  the  blackest  insult.  But  wrath  availed  me 
nothing,  for  I  could  never  come  near  him,  though  once,  with 
ten  of  my  Otomies,  I  charged  into  the  heart  of  the  Spanish 
column  after  him. 


2i8  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

From  that  rush  I  alone  escaped  alive,  the  ten  Otomies 
•were  sacrificed  to  my  hate. 

How  shall  I  paint  the  horrors  that  day  by  day  were,  heaped 
upon  the  doomed  city  ?  Soon  all  the  food  was  gone,  and  men, 
ay,  and  worse  still,  tender  women  and  children,  must  eat  such 
meat  as  swine  would  have  turned  from,  striving  to  keep  life  in 
them  for  a  little  longer.  Grass,  the  bark  of  trees,  slugs  and 
insects,  washed  down  with  brackish  water  from  the  lake,  these 
were  their  best  food,  these  and  the  flesh  of  captives  oifered  in 
sacrifice.  Now  they  began  to  die  by  hundreds  and  by  thou- 
sands, they  died  so  fast  that  none  could  bury  them.  Where 
they  perished,  there  they  lay,  till  at  length  their  bodies  bred 
a  plague,  a  black  and  horrible  fever  that  swept  off  thousands 
more,  who  in  turn  became  the  root  of  pestilence.  For  one 
who  was  killed  by  the  Spaniards  and  their  allies,  two  were 
swept  off  by  hunger  and  plague.  Think  then  what  was 
the  number  of  dead  when  not  less  than  seventy  thousand 
perished  beneath  the  sword  and  by  fire  alone.  Indeed,  it  is 
said  that  forty  thousand  died  in  this  manner  in  a  single  day 
the  day  before  the  last  of  the  siege. 

One  night  I  came  back  to  the  lodging  where  Otomie  dwell 
with  her  royal  sister  Tecuichpo,  the  wife  of  Guatemoc,  for  no^ 
all  the  palaces  had  been  burnt  down.  I  was  starving,  for  ] 
had  scarcely  tasted  food  for  forty  hours,  but  all  that  my  wif( 
could  set  before  me  were  three  little  meal  cakes,  or  tortillas 
mixed  with  bark.  She  kissed  me  and  bade  me  eat  them,  but  J 
discovered  that  she  herself  had  touched  no  food  that  day,  so  }'. 
would  not  till  she  shared  them.  Then  I  noted  that  she  could 
scarcely  swallow  the  bitter  morsels,  and  also  that  she  strovo 
to  hide  tears  which  ran  down  her  face. 

«  What  is  it,  wife  ?  '  I  asked. 

Then  Otomie  broke  out  into  a  great  and  bitter  crying  and 
said  : 

*  This,  my  beloved  :  for  two  days  the  milk  has  been  dry  in 
my  breast  —  hunger  has  dried  it  —  and  our  babe  is  dead  ! 
Look,  he  lies  dead ! '  and  she  drew  aside  a  cloth  and  showed 
me  the  tiny  body. 

*  Hush,'  I  said,  '  he  is  spared  much.     Can  we  then  desire 
that  a  child  should  live  to  see  such  days  as  we  have  seen,  an! 
after  all,  to  die  at  last  ?  ' 

'  He  was  our  son,  our  firstborn,'  she  cried  again.  *  Oh  ! 
why  must  we  suffer  thus  ?  ' 

'  We  must  suffer,  Otomie,   because   we   are   born   to  i:. 


THE  FALL  Of  TENOCTITLAN  219 

Just  so  much  happiness  is  given  to  us  as  shall  save  us 
from  madness  and  no  more.  Ask  me  not  why,  for  I  cannot 
answer  you  !  There  is  no  answer  in  my  faith  or  in  any  other.' 

And  then,  looking  on  that  dead  babe,  I  wept  also.  Every 
hour  in  those  terrible  months  it  was  my  lot  to  see  a  thousand 
sights  more  awful,  and  yet  this  sight  of  a  dead  infant  moved 
me  the  most  of  all  of  them.  The  child  was  mine,  my  first- 
born, its  mother  wept  beside  me,  and  its  stiff  and  tiny  fingers 
seemed  to  drag  at  my  heart  strings.  Seek  not  the  cause,  for 
the  Almighty  Who  gave  the  heart  its  infinite  power  of  pain, 
alone  can  answer,  and  to  our  ears  He  is  dumb. 

Then  I  took  a  mattock  and  dug  a  hole  outside  the  house 
till  I  came  to  water,  which  in  Tenoctitlan  is  found  at  a  depth 
of  two  feet  or  so.  And,  having  muttered  a  prayer  over  him, 
there  in  the  water  I  laid  the  body  of  our  child,  burying  it  out 
of  sight.  At  the  least  he  was  not  left  for  the  zapilotes,  as  the 
Aztecs  call  the  vultures,  like  the  rest  of  them. 

After  that  we  wept  ourselves  to  sleep  in  each  other's  arms, 
Otomie  murmuring  from  time  to  time,  *  Oh  !  my  husband,  I 
would  that  we  were  asleep  and  forgotten,  we  and  the  babe 
together.' 

*  Rest  now,'  I  answered,  '  for  death  is  very  near  to  us.' 
The  morrow  came,  and  with  it  a  deadlier  fray  than  any 

that  had  gone  before,  and  after  it  more  morrows  and  more 
deaths,  but  still  we  lived  on,  for  Guatemoc  gave  us  of  his  food. 
Then  Cortes  sent  his  heralds  demanding  our  surrender,  and 
now  three-fourths  of  the  city  was  a  ruin,  and  three-fourths  of 
its  defenders  were  dead.  The  dead  were  heaped  in  the  houses 
like  bees  stifled  in  a  hive,  and  in  the  streets  they  lay  so  thick 
that  we  walked  upon  them. 

The  council  was  summoned— fierce  men,  haggard  with 
hunger  and  with  war,  and  they  considered  the  offer  of  Cortes. 

*  What  is  your  word,  Guatemoc  ?  '  said  their  spokesman  at 
last. 

1  Am  I  Montezuma,  that  you  ask  me  ?  I  swore  to  defend 
this  city  to  the  last,'  he  answered  hoarsely,  'and,  for  my  part, 
I  will  defend  it.  Better  that  we  should  all  die,  than  that  we 
should  fall  living  into  the  hands  of  the  Teules.' 

'  So  say  we,'  they  replied,  and  the  war  went  on. 

At  length  there  came  a  day  when  the  Spaniards  made  a 
new  attack  and  gained  another  portion  of  the  city.  There  the 
people  were  huddled  together  like  sheep  in  a  pen.  We  strove 
to  defend  them,  but  our  arms  were  weak  with  famine.  They 


220  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

fired  into  us  with  their  pieces,  mowing  us  down  like  cor 
before  the  sickle.  Then  the  Tlascalans  were  loosed  upon  ui 
like  fierce  hounds  upon  a  defenceless  buck,  and  on  this  day  i 
is  said  that  there  died  forty  thousand  people,  for  none  wer 
spared.  On  the  morrow,  it  was  the  last  day  of  the  siege 
came  a  fresh  embassy  from  Cortes,  asking  that  Guatemo 
should  meet  him.  The  answer  was  the  same,  for  nothin  ; 
could  conquer  that  noble  spirit. 

*  Tell  him,'  said  Guatemoc,  '  that  I  will  die  where  I  an  , 
but  that  I  will  hold  no  parley  with  him.  We  are  helpless,  k  0 
Cortes  work  his  pleasure  on  us.' 

By  now  all  the  city  was  destroyed,  and  we  who  remaine  I 
alive  within  its  bounds  were  gathered  on  the  causeway 
and  behind  the  ruins  of  walls ;  men,  women,  and  childre  i 
together. 

Here  they  attacked  us  again.  The  great  drum  on  tha 
teocalli  beat  for  the  last  time,  and  for  the  last  time  the  wil  1 
scream  of  the  Aztec  warriors  went  up  to  heaven.  We  fougr  t 
our  best ;  I  killed  four  men  that  day  with  my  arrows  whic  i 
Otomie,  who  was  at  my  side,  handed  me  as  I  shot.  But  the 
most  of  us  had  not  the  strength  of  a  child,  and  what  could  we 
do  ?  They  came  among  us  like  seamen  among  a  flock  of  seal ; 
and  slaughtered  us  by  hundreds.  They  drove  us  into  the 
canals  and  trod  us  to  death  there,  till  bridges  were  made  of 
our  bodies.  How  we  escaped  I  do  not  know. 

At  length  a  party  of  us,  among  whom  was  Guatemoc  with 
his  wife  Tecuichpo,  were  driven  to  the  shores  of  the  late 
where  lay  canoes,  and  into  these  we  entered,  scarcely  knov- 
ing  what  we  did,  but  thinking  that  we  might  escape,  for  no  -v 
all  the  city  was  taken.  The  brigantines  saw  us  and  sailed 
after  us  with  a  favouring  wind — the  wind  always  favoured 
the  foe  in  that  war — and  row  as  we  would,  one  of  them  can  e 
up  with  us  and  began  to  fire  into  us.  Then  Guatemoc  stocd 
up  and  spoke,  saying  : 

'  I  am  Guatemoc.  Bring  me  to  Malinche.  But  spare 
those  of  my  people  who  remain  alive.' 

'  Now,'  I  said  to  Otomie  at  my  side,  '  my  hour  has  coma, 
for  the  Spaniards  will  surely  hang  me,  and  it .  is  in  my  mind, 
wife,  that  I  should  do  well  to  kill  myself,  so  that  I  may  be 
saved  from  a  death  of  shame.' 

'  Nay,  husband,'  she  answered  sadly,  '  as  I  said  in  bygone 
days,  while  you  live  there  is  hope,  but  the  dead  come  back  no 
more.  Fortune  may  favour  us  yet ;  still,  if  you  think  other- 
wise, I  am  ready  to  die.' 


THE  FALL   OF  TENOCTITLAN  221 

'  That  I  will  not  suffer,  Otomie.' 

'  Then  you  must  hold  your  hand,  husband,  for  now  as 
always,  where  you  go,  I  follow.' 

1  Listen,'  I  whispered  ;  '  do  not  let  it  be  known  that  you  are 
my  wife  ;  pass  yourself  as  one  of  the  ladies  of  Tecuichpo,  the 
queen,  your  sister.  If  we  are  separated,  and  if  by  any  chance 
I  escape,  I  will  try  to  make  my  way  to  the  City  of  Pines. 
There,  among  your  own  people,  we  may  find  refuge.' 

1  So  be  it,  beloved,'  she  answered,  smiling  sadly.  '  But  I 
do  not  know  how  the  Otomie  will  receive  me,  who  have  led 
twenty  thousand  of  their  bravest  men  to  a  dreadful  death.' 

Now  we  were  on  the  deck  of  the  brigantine  and  must  stop 
talking,  and  thence,  after  the  Spaniards  had  quarrelled  over 
us  a  while,  we  were  taken  ashore  and  led  to  the  top  of  a  house 
which  still  stood,  where  Cortes  had  made  ready  hurriedly  to 
receive  his  royal  prisoner.  Surrounded  by  his  escort,  the 
Spanish  general  stood,  cap  in  hand,  and  by  his  side  was 
Marina,  grown  more  lovely  than  before,  whom  I  now  met  for 
the  first  time  since  we  had  parted  in  Tobasco. 

Our  eyes  met  and  she  started,  thereby  showing  that  she 
knew  me  again,  though  it  must  have  been  hard  for  Marina  to 
recognise  her  friend  Teule  in  the  blood-stained,  starving,  and 
tattered  wretch  who  could  scarcely  find  strength  to  climb  the 
azotea.  But  at  that  time  no  words  passed  between  us,  for  all 
eyes  were  bent  on  the  meeting  between  Cortes  and  Guatemoc, 
between  the  conqueror  and  the  conquered. 

Still  proud  and  defiant,  though  he  seemed  but  a  living 
skeleton,  Guatemoc  walked  straight  to  where  the  Spaniard 
stood,  and  spoke,  Marina  translating  his  words. 

'  I  am  Guatemoc,  the  emperor,  Malinche,'  he  said.  '  What 
a  man  might  do  to  defend  his  people,  I  have  done.  Look  on 
the  fruits  of  my  labour,'  and  he  pointed  to  the  blackened 
ruins  of  Tenoctitlan  that  stretched  on  every  side  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach.  '  Now  I  have  come  to  this  pass,  for  the  gods 
themselves  have  been  against  me.  Deal  with  me  as  you  will, 
but  it  will  be  best  that  you  kill  me  now,'  and  he  touched  the 
dagger  of  Cortes  with  his  hand,  '  and  thus  rid  me  swiftly  of 
the  misery  of  life.' 

'  Fear  not,  Guatemoc,'  answered  Cortes.  '  You  have 
fought  like  a  brave  man,  and  such  I  honour.  With  me  you  are 
safe,  for  we  Spaniards  love  a  gallant  foe.  See,  here  is  food,' 
and  he  pointed  to  a  table  spread  with  such  viands  as  we  had 
not  seen  for  many  a  week  ;  '  eat,  you  and  your  companions 
together,  for  you  must  need  it.  Afterwards  we  will  talk,' 


222  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 


lat  it 


So  we  ate,  and  heartily,  I  for  my  part  thinking  that 
would  be  well  to  die  upon  a  full  stomach,  having  faced  death 
so  long  upon  an  empty  one,  and  while  we  devoured  the  meat 
the  Spaniards  stood  on  one  side  scanning  us,  not  without 
pity.  Presently,  Tecuichpo  was  brought  before  Cortes,  and 
with  her  Otomie  and  some  six  other  ladies.  He  greeted  her 
graciously,  and  they  also  were  given  to  eat.  Now,  one  of  the 
Spaniards  who  had  been  watching  me  whispered  something 
into  the  ear  of  Cortes,  and  I  saw  his  face  darken. 

1  Say,'  he  said  to  me  in  Castilian,  '  are  you  that  renegade, 
that  traitor  who  has  aided  these  Aztecs  against  us  ?  ' 

'  I  am  no  renegade  and  no  traitor,  general,'  I  answerec 
boldly,  for  the  food  and  wine  had  put  new  life  into  me.  *  I  an 
an  Englishman,  and  I  have  fought  with  the  Aztecs  because  1 
have  good  cause  to  hate  you  Spaniards.' 

'  You  shall  soon  have  better,  traitor,'  he  said  furiously  / 
1  Here,  lead  this  man  away  and  hang  him  on  the  mast  o 
yonder  ship.' 

Now  I  saw  that  it  was  finished,  and  made  ready  to  g<  > 
to  my  death,  when  Marina  spoke  into  the  ear  of  Cortes.     All 
she  said  I  could  not  catch,  but  I  heard  the  words  '  hiddei 
gold.'    He  listened,  then  hesitated,  and  spoke  aloud  :  '  Do  no 
hang  this   man  to-day.     Let  him   be  safely   guarded.     To 
morrow  I  will  inquire  into  his  case.' 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THOMAS    IS    DOOMED 

AT  the  words  of  Cortes  two  Spaniards  came  forward,  anc 
seizing  me  one  by  either  arm,  they  led  me  across  the  roof  oi 
the  house  towards  the  stairway.  Otomie  had  heard  also,  and 
though  she  did  not  understand  the  words,  she  read  the  face  oi 
Cortes,  and  knew  well  that  I  was  being  taken  to  imprisonmenl 
or  death.  As  I  passed  her,  she  started  forward,  a  terror  shin- 
ing in  her  eyes.  Fearing  that  she  was  about  to  throw  herself 
upon  my  breast,  and  thus  to  reveal  herself  as  my  wife,  ar.d^ 
bring  my  fate  upon  her,  I  glanced  at  her  warningly,  thfn? 
making  pretence  to  stumble,  as  though  with  fear  and  exhaus- 
tion, I  fell  at  her  feet.  The  soldiers  who  led  me  laughed  bru- 
tally, and  one  of  them  kicked  me  with  his  heavy  boot.  But 
Otomie  stooped  down  and  held  her  hand  to  me  to  help  me 
rise,  and  as  I  did  so,  we  spoke  low  and  swiftly. 


THOMAS  IS  DOOMED  223 

1  Farewell,  wife,'  I  said  ;   '  whatever  happens,  keep  silent. 

'Farewell,'  she  answered;  'if  you  must  die,  await  me  in 
the  gates  of  death,  for  I  will  join  you  there.' 

'  Nay,  live  on.     Time  shall  bring  comfort.' 

'  You  are  my  life,  beloved.     With  you  time  ends  for  me.' 

Now  I  was  on  my  feet  again,  and  I  think  that  none 
noted  our  whispered  words,  for  all  were  listening  to  Cortes, 
who  rated  the  man  that  had  kicked  me. 

*  I  bade  you  guard  this  traitor,  not  to  kick  him, '  he  said  angrily 
in  Castilian.  '  Will  you  put  us  to  open  shame  before  these 
savages  ?  Do  so  once  more,  and  you  shall  pay  for  it  smartly. 
Learn  a  lesson  in  gentleness  from  that  woman  ;  she  is  starv- 
ing, yet  she  leaves  her  food  to  help  your  prisoner  to  his  feet. 
Now*  take  him  away  to  the  camp,  and  see  that  he  comes  to  no 
harm,  for  he  can  tell  me  much.' 

Then  the  soldiers  led  me  away,  grumbling  as  they  went, 
and  the  last  thing  that  I  saw  was  the  despairing  face  of 
Otomie  my  wife,  as  she  gazed  after  me,  faint  with  the  secret 
agony  of  our  parting.  But  when  I  came  to  the  head  of 
the  stairway,  Guatemoc,  who  stood  near,  took  my  hand  and 
shook  it. 

'  Farewell,  my  brother,'  he  said  with  a  heavy  smile ;  *  the 
game  we  played  together  is  finished,  and  now  it  is  time  for 
us  to  rest.  I  thank  you  for  your  valour  and  your  aid.' 

'  Farewell,  Guatemoc,'  I  answered.  *  You  are  fallen,  but 
let  this  comfort  you,  in  your  fall  you  have  found  immortal 
fame.' 

'  On,  on !  '  growled  the  soldiers,  and  I  went,  little  think- 
ing how  Guatemoc  and  I  should  meet  again. 

They  took  me  to  a  canoe,  and  we  were  paddled  across  the 
lake  by  Tlascalans,  till  at  length  we  came  to  the  Spanish 
camp.  All  the  journey  through,  my  guards,  though  they  laid 
no  hand  on  me,  fearing  the  anger  of  Cortes,  mocked  and 
taunted  me,  asking  me  how  I  liked  the  ways  of  the  heathen, 
and  whether  I  ate  the  flesh  of  the  sacrifices  raw  or  cooked  ;  and 
many  another  such  brutal  jest  they  made  at  my  expense. 
For  a  while  I  bore  it,  for  I  had  learned  to  be  patient  from  the 
Indians,  but  at  last  I  answered  them  in  few  words  and  bitter. 

'  Peace,  cowards,'  I  said  ;  '  remember  that  I  am  helpless, 
and  that  were  I  before  you  strong  and  armed,  either  I  should 
not  live  to  listen  to  such  words,  or  you  would  not  live  to 
repeat  them.' 

Then  they  were  silent,  and  I  also  was  silent. 

When  we  reached  their  camp  I  was  led  through  it,  followed 


224  AfONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

by  a  throng  of  fierce  Tlascalans  and  others,  who  would  have 
torn  me  limb  from  limb  had  they  not  feared  to  do  so.  I  saw 
some  Spaniards  also,  but  the  most  of  these  were  so  drunk 
with  mescal,  and  with  joy  at  the  tidings  that  Tenoctitlan  had 
fallen,  and  their  labours  were  ended  at  last,  that  they  took  nc 
heed  of  me.  Never  did  I  see  such  madness  as  possessed  them. 
for  these  poor  fools  believed  that  henceforth  they  should  eai 
their  very  bread  off  plates  of  gold.  It  was  for  gold  that  the} 
had  followed  Cortes ;  for  gold  they  had  braved  the  altar  o: 
sacrifice  and  fought  in  a  hundred  fights,  and  now,  as  the} 
thought,  they  had  won  it. 

The  room  of  the  stone  house  where  they  prisoned  me  ha( 
a  window  secured  by  bars  of  wood,  and  through  these  bars  . 
could  see  and  hear  the  revellings  of  the  soldiers  during  th< 
time  of  my  confinement.     All  day  long,  when  they  were  no  , 
on  duty,  and  most  of  the  night  also,  they  gambled  and  drank , 
staking   tens  of  pesos  on   a   single  throw,  which  the  lose  • 
must  pay  out  of  his  share  of  the  countless  treasures  of  th  j 
Aztecs.     Little  did  they  care  if  they  won  or  lost,  they  were  s  ) 
sure  of  plunder,  but  played  on  till  drink  overpowered  then: , 
and   they  rolled  senseless   beneath  the  tables,  or   till   the/ 
sprang  up  and  danced  wildly  to  and  fro,  catching  at  the  sur- 
beams  and  screaming  *  Gold  !  gold !  gold  !  ' 

Listening  at  this  window  also  I  gathered  some  of  the  tiding  3 
of  the  camp.  I  learned  that  Cortes  had  come  back,  bringing 
Guatemoc  and  several  of  the  princes  with  him,  together  wit  a 
many  of  the  noble  Aztec  ladies.  Indeed  I  saw  and  heard  tl  e 
soldiers  gambling  for  these  women  when  they  were  weary  of 
their  play  for  money,  a  description  of  each  of  them  being 
written  on  a  piece  of  paper.  One  of  these  ladies  answered 
well  to  Otomie,  my  wife,  and  she  was  put  up  to  auction  ly 
the  brute  who  won  her  in  the  gamble,  and  sold  to  a  commcn 
soldier  for  a  hundred  pesos.  For  these  men  never  doubted 
but  that  the  women  and  the  gold  would  be  handed  over  ;o 
them. 

Thus  things  went  for  several  days,  during  which  I  sat  and 
slept  in  my  prison  untroubled  by  any,  except  the  native  woman 
who  waited  on  me  and  brought  me  food  in  plenty.  During  those 
days  I  ate  as  I  have  never  eaten  before  or  since,  and  I  slept 
much,  for  my  sorrows  could  not  rid  my  body  of  its  appetites 
and  commanding  need  for  food  and  rest.  Indeed  I  verily 
believe  that  at  the  end  of  a  week,  I  had  increased  in  weight 
by  a  full  half ;  also  my  weariness  was  conquered  at  length, 
and  I  was  strong  again. 


THOMAS  IS  DOOMED  225 

But  when  I  was  neither  sleeping  nor  eating  I  watched  at 
my  window,  hoping,  though  in  vain,  to  catch  some  sight  of 
Otomie  or  of  Guatemoc.  If  I  might  not  see  my  friends,  how- 
ever, at  least  I  saw  my  foe,  for  one  evening  de  Garcia  came 
and  stared  at  my  prison.  He  could  not  see  me,  but  I  saw 
him,  and  the  devilish  smile  that  nickered  on  his  face  as  he 
went  away  like  a  wolf,  made  me  shiver  with  a  presage  of  woes 
to  come.  For  ten  minutes  or  more  he  stood  gazing  at  my 
window  hungrily,  as  a  cat  gazes  at  a  caged  bird,  and  I  felt 
that  he  was  waiting  for  the  door  to  be  opene.d,  and  knew 
that  it  would  soon  be  opened. 

This  happened  on  the  eve  of  the  day  upon  which  I  was 
put  to  torture. 

Meanwhile,  as  time  went  on,  I  noticed  that  a  change  came 
over  the  temper  of  the  camp.  The  soldiers  ceased  to  gamble  for 
untold  wealth,  they  even  ceased  from  drinking  to  excess  and 
from  their  riotous  joy,  but  took  to  hanging  together  in  knots 
discussing  fiercely  I  could  not  learn  of  what.  On  the  day  when 
de  Garcia  came  to  look  at  my  prison  there  was  a  great  gather- 
ing in  the  square  opposite  my  prison,  to  which  I  saw  Cortes 
ride  up  on  a  white  horse  and  richly  dressed.  The  meeting  was 
too  far  away  for  me  to  overhear  what  passed,  but  I  noted 
that  several  officers  addressed  Cortes  angrily,  and  that  their 
speeches  were  loudly  cheered  by  the  soldiers.  At  length  the 
great  captain  answered  them  at  some  length,  and  they  broke 
up  in  silence.  Next  morning  after  I  had  breakfasted,  four 
soldiers  came  into  my  prison  and  ordered  me  to  accompany 
them. 

<  Whither  ? '  I  asked. 

'  To  the  captain,  traitor,'  their  leader  answered. 

'  It  has  come  at  last,'  I  thought  to  myself,  but  I  said  only : 

1  It  is  well.  Any  change  from  this  hole  is  one  for  the 
better.' 

'  Certainly,'  he  replied  ;  '  and  it  is  your  last  shift.' 

Then  I  knew  that  the  man  believed  that  I  was  going  to 
my  death.  In  five  minutes  I  was  standing  before  Cortes  in 
his  private  house.  At  his  side  was  Marina  and  around  him 
were  several  of  his  companions  in  arms.  The  great  man 
looked  at  me  for  a  while,  then  spoke. 

'  Your  name  is  Wingfield  ;  you  are  of  mixed  blood,  half 
English  and  half  Spanish.  You  were  cast  away  in  the 
Tobasco  River  and  taken  to  Tenoctitlan.  There  you  were 
doomed  to  personate  the  Aztec  god  Tezcat,  and  were  rescued 
by  us  when  we  captured  the  great  teocalli.  Subsequently 

Q 


226  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

you  joined  the  Aztecs  and  took  part  in  the  attack  and  slaugh 
ter  of  the  noche  triste.  You  were  afterwards  the  friend  am 
counsellor  of  Guatemoc,  and  assisted  him  in  his  defence  o 
Tenoctitlan.  Is  this  true,  prisoner  ?  ' 

*  It  is  all  true,  general,'  I  answered. 

'  Good.     You  are  now  our  prisoner,  and  had  you  a  thou 
sand  lives,  you  have  forfeited  them  all  because  of  your  trea 
chery  to  your  race  and  blood.    Into  the  circumstances  that  le< 
you  to  commit  this  horrible  treason  I  cannot  enter  ;  the  fac 
remains.     You  have  slain  many  of  the  Spaniards  and  thei  - 
allies ;  that  is,  being  in  a  state  of  treason  you  have  murdere  I 
them.     Wingfield,  your  life  is  forfeit  and  I  condemn  you  to  di  > 
by  hanging  as  a  traitor  and  an  apostate.' 

'Then  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said,'  I  answerel 
quietly,  though  a  cold  fear  froze  my  blood. 

*  There  is   something,'   answered  Cortes.     '  Though  yoi  r 
crimes  have  been  so  many,  I  am  ready  to  give  you  your  li  e 
and  freedom  upon  a  condition.     I  am  ready  to  do  more,    o 
find  you  a  passage  to  Europe   on  the  first  occasion,  whe  e 
you  may  perchance  escape  the  echoes  of  your  infamy  if  G(  d 
is  good  to  you.     The  condition  is  this.    We  have  reason    o 
believe  that  you  are  acquainted  with  the  hiding  place  of  the 
gold  of  Montezuma,  which  was  unlawfully  stolen  from  us  <  >n 
the  night  of  the  noche  triste.      Nay,  we  know  that  this  is  so, 
for  you  were  seen  to  go  with  the  canoes  that  were  laden  wi  Jh 
it.     Choose  now,  apostate,  between  a  shameful  death  and  1 10 
revealing  to  us  of  the  secret  of  this  treasure.' 

For  a  moment  I  wavered.  On  the  one  hand  was  the  k  ss  i 
of  honour  with  life  and  liberty  and  the  hope  of  home,  on  t  ae;i 
other  a  dreadful  end.  Then  I  remembered  my  oath  a  id ! 
Otomie,  and  what  she  would  think  of  me  living  or  dead,  i '  I ; 
did  this  thing,  and  I  wavered  no  more. 

'I  know  nothing  of  the  treasure,  general,'  I  answeiedi 
coldly.  '  Send  me  to  my  death.' 

'  You  mean  that  you  will  say  nothing  of  it,  traitor.  Think 
again.  If  you  have  sworn  any  oaths  they  are  broken  by  God. 
The  empire  of  the  Aztecs  is  at  an  end,  their  king  is  :ny 
prisoner,  their  great  city  is  a  ruin.  The  true  God  has 
triumphed  over  these  devils  by  my  hand.  Their  wealth  is 
my  lawful  spoil,  and  I  must  have  it  to  pay  my  gallant  com-' 
rades  who  cannot  grow  rich  on  desolation.  Think  again.' 

1 1  know  nothing  of  this  treasure,  general.' 

'  Yet  memory  sometimes  wakens,  traitor.  I  have  said 
that  you  shall  die  if  yours  should  fail  you,  and  so  you  shall  to  be 


THOMAS  IS  DOOMED  227 

sure.  But  death  is  not  always  swift.  There  are  means, 
doubtless  you  who  have  lived  in  Spain  have  heard  of  them,' 
and  lie  arched  his  brows  and  glared  at  me  meaningly,  '  by 
which  a  man  may  die  and  yet  live  for  many  weeks.  Now, 
loth  as  I  am  to  do  it,  it  seems  that  if  your  memory  still  sleeps, 
I  must  find  some  such  means  to  rouse  it — before  you  die.' 

'  I  am  in  your  power,  general,'  I  answered.  '  You  call 
me  traitor  again  and  again.  I  am  no  traitor.  I  am  a  sub- 
ject of  the  King  of  England,  not  of  the  King  of  Spain.  I 
came  hither  following  a  villain  who  has  wrought  me  and  mine 
bitter  wrong,  one  of  your  company  named  de  Garcia  or 
Sarceda.  To  find  him  and  for  other  reasons  I  joined  the 
Aztecs.  They  are  conquered  and  I  am  your  prisoner.  At 
the  least  deal  with  me  as  a  brave  man  deals  with  a  fallen 
enemy.  I  know  nothing  of  the  treasure  ;  kill  me  and  make  an 
end.' 

'  As  a  man  I  might  wish  to  do  this,  Wingfield,  but  I  am 
more  than  a  man,  I  am  the  hand  of  the  Church  here  in 
Anahuac.  You  have  partaken  with  the  worshippers  of  idols, 
you  have  seen  your  fellow  Christians  sacrificed  and  devoured 
by  your  brute  comrades.  For  this  alone  you  deserve  to  be 
tortured  eternally,  and  doubtless  that  will  be  so  after  we  have 
done  with  you.  As  for  the  hidalgo  Don  Sarceda,  I  know  him 
only  as  a  brave  companion  in  arms,  and  certainly  I  shall  not 
listen  to  tales  told  against  him  by  a  wandering  apostate.  It 
is,  however,  unlucky  for  you,'  and  here  a  gleam  of  light  shot 
across  the  face  of  Cortes,  '  that  there  should  be  any  old  feud 
between  you,  seeing  that  it  is  to  his  charge  that  I  am 
about  to  confide  you.  Now  for  the  last  time  I  say  choose. 
Will  you  reveal  the  hiding  place  of  the  treasure  and  go  free, 
or  will  you  be  handed  over  to  the  care  of  Don  Sarceda  till 
such  time  as  he  shall  find  means  to  make  you  speak  ?  ' 

Now  a  great  faintness  seized  me,  for  I  knew  that  I  was 
condemned  to  be  tortured,  and  that  de  Garcia  was  to  be  the 
torturer.  What  mercy  had  I  to  expect  from  his  cruel  heart 
when  I,  his  deadliest  foe,  lay  in  his  power  to  wreak  his  ven- 
geance on  ?  But  still  my  will  and  my  honour  prevailed 
against  my  terrors,  and  I  answered : 

'  I  have  told  you,  general,  that  I  know  nothing  of  this 
treasure.  Do  your  worst,  and  may  God  forgive  you  for  your 
cruelty.' 

'Dare  not  to  speak  that  holy  Name,  apostate  and  wor- 
shipper of  idols,  eater  of  human  flesh.  Let  Sarceda  be 
summoned.' 

Q2 


228  MONTEZVMA*S  DAUGHTER 

A  messenger  went  out,  and  for  a  while  there  was  silence. 
I  caught  Marina's  glance  and  saw  pity  in  her  gentle  eyes. 
But  she  could  not  help  1119  here,  for  Cortes  was  mad  because 
no  gold  had  been  found,  and  the  clamour  of  the  soldiers  for 
reward  had  worn  him  out  and  brought  him  to  this  shameful 
remedy,  he  who  was  not  cruel  by  nature.  Still  she  strove  to 
plead  for  me  with  him,  whispering  earnestly  in  his  ear.  For 
.a  while  Cortes  listened,  then  he  pushed  her  from  him  roughly. 

'Peace,  Marina,'  he  said.  'What,  shall  I  spare  this  English 
dog  some  pangs,  when  my  command,  and  perchance  my  very 
life,  hangs  upon  the  finding  of  the  gold?  Nay,  he  knows 
well  where  it  lies  hid  ;  you  said  it  yourself  when  I  would  have 
hung  him  for  a  traitor,  and  certainly  he  was  one  of  those 
whom  the  spy  saw  go  out  with  it  upon  the  lake.  Our  friend 
was  with  them  also,  but  he  came  back  no  more  ;  doubtless  they 
murdered  him.  What  is  this  man  to  you  that  you  should 
plead  for  him  ?  Cease  to  trouble  me,  Marina,  am  I  not 
troubled  enough  already  ? '  and  Cortes  put  his  hands  to  his 
face  and  remained  lost  in  thought.  As  for  Marina,  she  looked 
at  me  sadly  and  sighed  as  though  to  say,  '  I  have  done  my 
best,'  and  I  thanked  her  with  my  eyes. 

Presently  there  was  a  sound  of  footsteps  and  I  looked  up 
to  see  de  Garcia  standing  before  me.  Time  and  hardship  had 
touched  him  lightly,  and  the  lines  of  silver  in  his  curling  hair 
and  peaked  beard  did  but  add  dignity  to  his  noble  presence. 
Indeed,  when  I  looked  at  him  in  his  dark  Spanish  beauty,  his 
rich  garments  decked  with  chains  of  gold,  as  he  bowed  before 
Cortes  hat  in  hand,  I  was  fain  to  confess  that  I  had  never 
seen  a  more  gallant  cavalier,  or  one  whose  aspect  gave  the  lie 
so  wholly  to  the  black  heart  within.  But  knowing  him  for 
what  he  was,  my  very  blood  quivered  with  hate  at  the  sight  of 
him,  and  when  I  thought  of  my  own  impotence  and  of  the 
errand  on  which  he  had  come,  I  ground  my  teeth  and  cursed 
the  day  that  I  was  born.  As  for  de  Garcia,  he  greeted  me  with 
a  little  cruel  smile,  then  spoke  to  Cortes. 

'  Your  pleasure,  general?  ' 

4  Greeting  to  you,  comrade,'  answered  Cortes.  '  You  know 
this  renegade  ?  ' 

*  But  too  well,  general.  Three  times  he  has  striven  to 
murder  me.' 

'  Well,  you  have  escaped  and  it  is  your  hour  now,  Sarceda, 
He  says  that  he  has  a  quarrel  with  you  ;  what  is  it  ?  ' 

De  Garcia  hesitated,  stroking  his  peaked  beard,  then  an- 
swsred :  *  I  ana  loth  to  tell  it  because  it  is  a  tale  of  error  for 


THOMAS  IS  DOOMED  229 

which  I  have  often  sorrowed  and  done  penance.  Yet  I  will 
speak  for  fear  you  should  think  worse  of  me  than  I  deserve. 
This  man  has  some  cause  to  mislike  me,  since  to  be  frank,  when 
I  was  younger  than  I  am  to-day  and  given  to  the  follies  of 
youth,  it  chanced  that  in  England  I  met  his  mother,  a  beauti- 
ful Spanish  lady  who  by  ill  fortune  was  wedded  to  an  English- 
man, this  man's  father  and  a  clown  of  clowns,  who  maltreated 
her.  I  will  be  short ;  the  lady  learned  to  love  me  and  I  worsted 
her  husband  in  a  duel.  Hence  this  traitor's  hate  of  me.' 

I  heard  and  thought  that  my  heart  must  burst  with  fury. 
To  all  his  wickedness  and  offences  against  me,  de  Garcia  now 
had  added  slander  of  my  dead  mother's  honour. 

1  You  lie,  murderer,'  I  gasped,  tearing  at  the  ropes  that 
bound  me. 

'  I  must  ask  you  to  protect  me  from  such  insult,  general,' 
de  Garcia  answered  coldly.  '  Were  the  prisoner  worthy  of  my 
sword,  I  would  ask  further  that  his  bonds  should  be  loosed  for 
a  little  space,  but  my  honour  would  be  tarnished  for  ever  were 
I  to  fight  with  such  as  he.' 

'  Dare  to  speak  thus  once  more  to  a  gentleman  of  Spain,' 
said  Cortes  coldly,  *  and,  you  heathen  dog,  your  tongue  shall 
be  dragged  from  you  with  red-hot  pincers.  For  you,  Sarceda, 
I  thank  you  for  your  confidence.  If  you  have  no  worse  crime 
than  a  love  affair  upon  your  soul,  I  think  that  our  good  chap- 
lain Olmedo  will  frank  you  through  the  purgatorial  fires.  ]>ut 
we  waste  words  and  time.  This  man  has  the  secret  of  the 
treasure  of  Guatemoc  and  of  Montezuma.  If  Guatemoc  and 
his  nobles  will  not  tell  it,  he  at  least  may  be  forced  to  speak, 
for  the  torments  that  an  Indian  can  endure  without  a  groan 
will  soon  bring  truth  bubbling  from  the  lips  of  this  white 
heathen.  Take  him,  Sarceda,  and  hearken,  let  him  be  your 
especial  care.  First  let  him  suffer  with  the  others,  and  after- 
wards, should  he  prove  obdurate,  alone.  The  method  I  leave 
to  you.  Should  he  confess,  summon  me.' 

'  Pardon  me,  general,  but  this  is  no  task  for  an  hidalgo  of 
Spain.  I  have  been  more  wont  to  pierce  my  enemies  with 
the  sword  than  to  tear  them  with  pincers,'  said  de  Garcia, 
but  as  he  spoke  I  saw  a  gleam  of  triumph  shine  in  his  black 
eyes,  and  heard  the  ring  of  triumph  through  the  mock  anger 
of  his  voice. 

'  I  know  it,  comrade.  But  this  must  be  done  ;  though  I 
hate  it,  it  must  be  done,  there  is  no  other  way.  The  gold  is 
necessary  to  me — by  the  Mother  of  God !  the  knaves  say  that  I 
have  stolen  it ! — and  I  doubt  these  stubborn  Indian  dogs  will 


230  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

never  speak,  however  great  their  agony.  This  man  knows 
and  I  give  him  over  to  you  because  you  are  acquainted  with 
his  wickedness,  and  that  knowledge  will  steel  your  heart 
against  all  pity.  Spare  not,  comrade ;  remember  that  he 
must  be  forced  to  speak.' 

'  It  is  your  command,  Cortes,  and  I  will  obey  it,  though  I 
love  the  task  little  ;  with  one  proviso,  however,  that  you  give 
me  your  warrant  in  writing.' 

*  It  shall  be  made  out  at  once,'  answered  the  general.  *  And 
now  away  with  him.' 

1  Where  to  ?  ' 

'  To  the  prison  that  he  has  left.  All  is  ready  and  there 
he  will  find  his  comrades.' 

Then  a  guard  was  summoned  and  I  was  dragged  back  to 
my  own  place,  de  Garcia  saying  as  I  went  that  he  would  be 
with  me  presently. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

DE    GA11CIA    SPEAKS    HIS    MIND 

AT  first  I  was  not  taken  into  the  chamber  that  I  had  left, 
but  placed  in  a  little  room  opening  out  of  it  where  the 
guard  slept.  Here  I  waited  awhile,  bound  hand  and  foot  and 
watched  by  two  soldiers  with  drawn  swords.  As  I  waited, 
torn  by  rage  and  fear,  I  heard  the  noise  of  hammering  through 
the  wall,  followed  by  a  sound  of  groans.  At  length  the 
suspense  came  to  an  end ;  a  door  was  opened,  and  two 
fierce  Tlascalan  Indians  came  through  it  and  seized  me  by  the 
hair  and  ears,  dragging  me  thus  into  my  own  chamber. 

*  Poor  devil !  '  I  heard  one  of  the  Spanish  soldiers  say  as  I 
went.  ;  Apostate  or  no,  I  am  sorry  for  him  ;  this  is  bloody  work.' 

Then  the  •  door  closed  and  I  was  in  the  place  of  torment. 
The  room  was  darkened,  for  a  cloth  had  been  hung  in 
front  of  the  window  bars,  but  its  gloom  was  relieved  by 
certain  fires  that  burned  in  braziers.  It  was  by  the  light  of 
these  fires  chiefly  that  I  saw  the  sight.  On  the  floor  of 
the  chamber  were  placed  three  solid  chairs,  one  of  them 
empty.  The  other  two  were  filled  by  none  other  than 
G-uatemoc,  Emperor  of  the  Aztecs,  and  by  his  friend  and 
mine  the  cacique  of  Tacuba.  They  were  bound  in  the  chairs, 
the  burning  braziers  were  placed  at  their  feet,  behind 
them  stood  a  clerk  with  paper  and  an  inkhorn,  and  around 


DE  GARCIA   SPEAKS  HIS  MIND  231 

them  Indians  were  busy  at  some  dreadful  task,  directed 
to  it  by  two  Spanish  soldiers.  Near  the  third  chair  stood 
another  Spaniard  who  as  yet  took  no  part  in  the  play ;  it 
was  de  Garcia.  As  I  looked,  an  Indian  lifted  one  of  the 
braziers  and  seizing  the  naked  foot  of  the  Tacuban  prince, 
thrust  it  down  upon  the  glowing  coals.  For  a  while  there 
was  silence,  then  the  Tacuban  broke  into  groans.  Guatemoc 
turned  his  head  towards  him  and  spoke,  and  as  he  spoke 
I  saw  that  his  foot  also  was  resting  in  the  flames  of  a 
brazier.  '  Why  do  you  complain,  friend,'  he  said,  in  a  steady 
voice,  '  when  I  keep  silence  ?  Am  I  then  taking  my  pleasure 
in  a  bed  ?  Follow  me  now  as  always,  friend,  and  be  silent 
beneath  your  sufferings.' 

The  clerk  wrote  down  his  words,  for  I  heard  the  quill 
scratching  on  the  paper,  and  as  he  wrote,  Guatemoc  turned 
his  head  and  saw  me.  His  face  was  grey  with  pain,  still  he 
spoke  as  a  hundred  times  I  had  heard  him  speak  at  council, 
slowly  and  clearly.  '  Alas  !  are  you  also  here,  my  friend 
Teule  ? '  he  said ;  '  I  hoped  that  they  had  spared  you.  See 
how  these  Spaniards  keep  faith.  Malinche  swore  to  treat  me 
with  all  honour  ;  behold  how  he  honours  me,  with  hot  coals 
for  my  feet  and  pincers  for  my  flesh.  They  think  that  we 
have  buried  treasure,  Teule,  and  would  wrring  its  secret  from 
us.  You  know  that  it  is  a  lie.  If  we  had  treasure  would  we 
not  give  it  gladly  to  our  conquerors,  the  god-born  sons  of 
Quetzal  ?  You  know  that  there  is  nothing  left  except  the 
ruins  of  our  cities  and  the  bones  of  our  dead.' 

Here  he  ceased  suddenly,  for  the  demon  who  tormented 
him  struck  him  across  the  mouth  saying,  '  Silence,  dog.' 

But  I  understood,  and  I  swore  in  my  heart  that  I  would  die 
ere  I  revealed  my  brother's  secret.  This  was  the  last  triumph 
that  Guatemoc  could  win,  to  keep  his  gold  from  the  grasp 
of  the  greedy  Spaniard,  and  that  victory  at  least  he  should 
not  lose  through  me.  So  I  swore,  and  very  soon  my  oath 
must  be  put  to  the  test,  for  at  a  motion  from  de  Garcia  the 
Tlascalans  seized  me  and  bound  me  to  the  third  chair. 

Then  he  spoke  into  my  ear  in  Castilian  :  *  Strange  are  the 
ways  of  Providence,  Cousin  Wingfield.  You  have  hunted  me 
across  the  world,  and  several  times  we  have  met,  always  to 
your  sorrow.  I  thought  I  had  you  in  the  slave  ship,  I 
thought  that  the  sharks  had  you  in  the  water,  but  somehow 
you  escaped  me  whom  you  came  to  hunt.  When  I  knew  it 
I  grieved,  but  now  I  grieve  no  more,  for  I  see  that  you  were 
reserved  for  this  moment.  Cousin  Wingfield,  it  shall  go  hard 


232  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

if  you  escape  me  this  time,  and  yet  I  think  that  we  shall  spend 
some  days  together  before  we  part.  Now  I  will  be  courteous 
with  you.  You  may  have  a  choice  of  evils.  How  shall  we 
begin  ?  The  resources  at  my  command  are  not  all  that 
we  could  wish,  alas  !  the  Holy  Office  is  not  yet  here  with  its 
unholy  armoury,  but  still  I  have  done  my  best.  These  fellows 
do  not  understand  their  art :  hot  coals  are  their  only  inspira- 
tion. I,  you  see,  have  several,'  and  he  pointed  to  various  instru- 
ments of  torture.  '  Which  will  you  select  ?  ' 

I  made  no  answer,  for  I  had  determined  that  I  would 
speak  no  word  and  utter  no  cry,  do  what  they  might  with 
me. 

'  Let  me  think,  let  me  think,'  went  on  de  Garcia,  smooth- 
ing his  beard.  '  Ah,  I  have  it.  Here,  slaves.' 

Now  I  will  not  renew  my  own  agonies,  or  awake  the 
horror  of  any  who  may  chance  to  read  what  I  have  written 
by  describing  what  befell  me  after  this.  Suffice  it  to  say  that 
for  two  hours  and  more  this  devil,  helped  in  his  task  by  the 
Tlascalans,  worked  his  wicked  will  upon  me.  One  by  one 
torments  were  administered  to  me  with  a  skill  and  ingenuity 
that  cannot  often  have  been  surpassed,  and  when  at  times  I 
fainted  I  was  recovered  by  cold  water  being  dashed  upon  me 
and  spirits  poured  down  my  throat.  And  yet,  I  say  it 
with  some  pride,  during  those  two  dreadful  hours  I  uttered 
no  groan  however  great  my  sufferings,  and  spoke  no  word 
good  or  bad. 

Nor  was  it  only  bodily  pain  that  I  must  bear,  for  all  this 
while  my  enemy  mocked  me  with  bitter  words,  which  tormented 
my  soul  as  his  instruments  and  hot  coals  tormented  my  body. 
At  length  he  paused  exhausted,  and  cursed  me  for  an  obsti- 
nate pig  of  an  Englishman,  and  at  that  moment  Cortes 
entered  the  shambles  and  with  him  Marina. 

'  How  goes  it  ? '  he  said  lightly,  though  his  face  turned 
pale  at  the  sight  of  horror. 

'  The  cacique,  of  Tacuba  has  confessed  that  gold  is  buried  in 
his  garden,  the  other  two  have  said  nothing,  general,'  the 
clerk  answered,  glancing  down  his  paper. 

'  Brave  men,  indeed  ! '  I  heard  Cortes  mutter  to  himself ; 
then  said  aloud,  '  Let  the  cacique  be  carried  to-morrow  to 
the  garden  of  which  he  speaks,  that  he  may  point  out  the 
gold.  As  for  the  other  two,  cease  tormenting  them  for  this 
day.  Perhaps  they  may  find  another  mind  before  to-morrow. 
I  trust  so,  for  their  own  sakes  I  trust  so ! ' 

Then  he  drew  to  the  corner  of  the  room  and  consulted  with 


DE   GARCIA   SPEAKS  HIS  MIND  233 

Sarceda  and  the  other  torturers,  leaving  Marina  face  to  face 
with  Guatemoc  and  with  me.  For  a  while  she  stared  at 
the  prince  as  though  in  horror,  then  a  strange  light  came 
into  her  beautiful  eyes,  and  she  spoke  to  him  in  a  low  voice, 
saying  in  the  Aztec  tongue  : 

'  Do  you  remember  how  once  you  rejected  me  down 
yonder  in  Tobasco,  Guatemoc,  and  what  I  told  you  then  ? — 
that  I  should  grow  great  in  spite  of  you  ?  You  see  it  has  all 
come  true  and  more  than  true,  and  you  are  brought  to  this. 
Are  you  not  sorry,  Guatemoc  ?  I  am  sorry,  though  were  I 
as  some  women  are,  perchance  I  might  rejoice  to  see  you 
thus.' 

'  Woman,'  the  prince  answered  in  a  thick  voice,  '  you 
have  betrayed  your  country  and  you  have  brought  me  to 
shame  and  torment.  Yes,  had  it  not  been  for  you,  these 
things  had  never  been.  I  am  sorry,  indeed  I  am  sorry — that 
I  did  not  kill  you.  For  the  rest,  may  your  name  be  shameful 
for  ever  in  the  ears  of  honest  men  and  your  soul  be  ever- 
lastingly accursed,  and  may  you  yourself,  even  before  you 
die,  know  the  bitterness  of  dishonour  and  betrayal !  Your 
words  were  fulfilled,  and  so  shall  mine  be  also.' 

She  heard  and  turned  away  trembling,  and  for  a  while 
was  silent.  Then  her  glance  fell  upon  me  and  she  began  to 
weep. 

'  Alas  !  poor  man,'  she  said  ;  '  alas  !  my  friend.' 
Weep  not  over  me,  Marina,'  I  answered,  speaking  in 
Aztec,  '  for  your  tears  are  of  no  worth,  but  help  me  if  you 
may.' 

1  Ah  that  I  could  !  '  she  sobbed,  and  turning  fled  from  the 
place,  followed  presently  by  Cortes. 

Now  the  Spaniards  came  in  again  and  removed  Guatemoc 
and  the  cacique  of  Tacuba,  carrying  them  in  their  arms,  for 
they  could  not  walk,  and  indeed  the  cacique  was  in  a  swoon. 

1  Farewell,  Teule,'  said  Guatemoc  as  he  passed  me  ;  '  you 
are  indeed  a  true  son  of  Quetzal  and  a  gallant  man.  May  the 
gods  reward  you  in  times  to  come  for  all  that  you  have 
suffered  for  me  and  mine,  since  I  cannot.' 

Then  he  was  borne  out  and  these  were  the  last  words  that 
I  ever  heard  him  utter. 

Now  I  was  left  alone  with  the  Tlascalans  and  de  Garcia, 
who  mocked  me  as  before. 

'  A  little  tired,  eh,  friend  Wingfield  ? '  he  said  sneering. 
'  Well,  the  play  is  rough  till  you  get  used  to  it.  A  night's 
sleep  will  refresh  you,  and  to-morrow  you  will  be  a  new 


234  MQNTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

man.  Perhaps  you  believe  that  I  have  done  my  worst. 
Fool,  this  is  but  a  beginning.  Also  you  think  doubtless  that 
your  obstinacy  angers  me  ?  Wrong  again,  my  friend,  I  only 
pray  that  you  may  keep  your  lips  sealed  to  the  last.  Gladly 
would  I  give  my  share  of  this  hidden  gold  in  payment  for  two 
more  such  days  with  you.  I  have  still  much  to  pay  you  back, 
and  look  you,  I  have  found  a  way  to  do  it.  There  are  more 
ways  of  hurting  a  man  than  through  his  own  flesh — for 
instance,  when  I  wished  to  be  revenged  upon  your  father,  I 
struck  him  through  her  whom  he  loved.  Now  I  have 
touched  you  and  you  wonder  what  I  mean.  Well,  I  will  tell 
you.  Perhaps  you  may  know  an  Aztec  lady  of  royal  blood 
who  is  named  Otomie  ?  ' 

'  Otomie,  what  of  her  ?  '  I  cried,  speaking  for  the  first  time, 
since  fear  for  her  stirred  me  more  than  all  the  torments  I  had 
borne. 

*  A  triumph  indeed ;  I  have  found  a  way  to  make  you 
speak  at  last ;  why,  then,  to-morrow  you  will  be  full  of  words. 
Only  this.  Cousin  Wingfield  ;  Otomie,  Montezuma's  daughter, 
a  very  lovely  woman  by  the  way,  is  your  wife  according  to 
the  Indian  customs.  Well,  I  know  all  the  story  and — she  is 
in  my  power.  I  will  prove  it  to  you,  for  she  shall  be  brought 
here  presently  and  then  you  can  console  each  other.  For 
listen,  dog,  to-morrow  she  will  sit  where  you  are  sitting,  and 
before  your  eyes  she  shall  be  dealt  with  as  you  have  been 
dealt  with.  Ah  !  then  you  will  talk  fast  enough,  but  perhaps 
it  will  be  too  late.' 

And  now  for  the  first  time  I  broke  down  and  prayed  for 
mercy  even  of  my  foe. 

'  Spare  her,'  I  groaned  ;  *  do  what  you  will  with  me,  but 
spare  her  !  Surely  you  must  have  a  heart,  even  you,  for  you 
are  human.  You  can  never  do  this  thing,  and  Cortes  would 
not  suffer  it.' 

'  As  for  Cortes,'  he  answered,  '  he  will  know  nothing  of  it — 
till  it  is  done.  I  have  my  warrant  that  charges  me  to  use 
every  means  in  my  power  to  force  the  truth  from  you.  Tor- 
ture has  failed  ;  this  alone  is  left.  And  for  the  rest,  you  must 
read  me  ill.  You  know  what  it  is  to  hate,  for  you  hate  me  ; 
multiply  your  hate  by  ten  and  you  may  find  the  sum  of  mine 
for  you.  I  hate  you  for  your  blood,  I  hate  you  because  you 
have  your  mother's  eyes,  but  much  more  do  I  hate  you  for 
yourself,  for  did  you  not  beat  me,  a  gentleman  of  Spain,  with 
a  stick  as  though  I  were  a  hound  ?  Shall  I  then  shrink  from 
such  a  deed  when  I  can  satisfy  my  hate  by  it  ?  Also  perhaps, 


DE   GARCIA    SPEAKS  HIS  MIND  235 

though  you  are  a  brave  man,  at  this  moment  you  know  what 
it  is  to  fear,  and  are  tasting  of  its  agony.  Now  I  will  be  open 
with  you  ;  Thomas  Wingfield,  I  fear  you.  When  first  I  saw 
you  I  feared  you  as  I  had  reason  to  do,  and  that  is  why  I 
tried  to  kill  you,  and  as  time  has  gone  by  I  have  feared  you 
more  and  more,  so  much  indeed,  that  at  times  I  cannot  rest 
because  of  a  nameless  terror  that  dogs  me  and  which  has  to 
do  with  you.  Because  of  you  I  fled  from  Spain,  because  of 
you  I  have  played  the  coward  in  more  frays  than  one.  The 
luck  has  always  been  mine  in  this  duel  between  us,  and  yet 
I  tell  you  that  even  as  you  are,  I  fear  you  still.  If  I  dared  I 
v/ould  kill  you  at  once,  only  then  you  would  haunt  me  as 
your  mother  haunts  me,  and  also  I  must  answer  for  it  to 
Cortes.  Fear,  Cousin  Wingfield,  is  the  father  of  cruelty, 
and  mine  makes  me  cruel  to  you.  Living  or'  dead,  I  know 
that  you  will  triumph  over  me  at  the  last,  but  it  is  my  turn 
now,  and  while  you  breathe,  or  while  one  breathes  who  is 
dear  to  you,  I  will  spend  my  life  to  bring  you  and  them  to 
shame  and  misery  and  death,  as  I  brought  your  mother,  my 
cousin,  though  she  forced  me  to  it  to  save  myself.  Why  not  ? 
There  is  no  forgiveness  for  me,  I  cannot  undo  the  past.  You 
came  to  take  vengeance  on  me,  and  soon  or  late  by  you,  or 
through  you,  it  will  be  glutted,  but  till  then  I  triumph,  ay, 
even  when  I  must  sink  to  this  butcher's  work  to  do  it,'  and 
suddenly  he  turned  and  left  the  place. 

Then  weakness  and  suffering  overcame  me  and  I  swooned 
away.  When  I  awoke  it  was  to  find  that  my  bonds  had  been 
loosed  and  that  I  lay  on  some  sort  of  bed,  while  a  woman 
bent  over  me,  tending  me  with  murmured  words  of  pity  and 
love.  The  night  had  fallen,  but  there  was  light  in  the 
chamber,  and  by  it  I  saw  that  the  woman  was  none  other 
than  Otomie,  no  longer  starved  and  wretched,  but  almost  as 
lovely  as  before  the  days  of  siege  and  hunger. 

'  Otomie  !  you  here  ! '  I  gasped  through  my  wounded  lips, 
for  with  my  senses  came  the  memory  of  de  Garcia's  threats. 

'  Yes,  beloved,  it  is  I,'  she  murmured  ;  '  they  have  suffered 
that  I  nurse  you,  devils  though  they  are.  Oh !  that  I  must 
see  you  thus  and  yet  be  helpless  to  avenge  you,'  and  she  burst 
into  weeping. 

'  Hush,'  I  said,  '  hush.     Have  we  food  ?  ' 

*  In  plenty.     A  woman  brought  it  from  Marina.' 

'  Give  me  to  eat,  Otomie.' 

Now  for  a  while  she  fed  me  and  the  deadly  sickness  passed 
from  me,  though  my  poor  flesh  burned  with  a  hundred  agonies. 


236  MONTEZUMA'S   DAUGHTER 

1  Listen,  Otomie  :  have  you  seen  de  Garcia  ?  ' 
1  No,  husband.  Two  days  since  I  was  separated  from  my 
sister  Tecuichpo  and  the  other  ladies,  but  I  have  been  well 
treated  and  have  seen  no  Spaniard  except  the  soldiers  who 
led  me  here,  telling  me  that  you  were  sick.  Alas  !  I  knew 
not  from  what  cause,'  and  again  she  began  to  weep. 

*  Still  some  have  seen  you  and  it  is  reported  that  you  are 
my  wife.' 

'  It  is  likely  enough,'  she  answered,  *  for  it  was  known 
throughout  the  Aztec  hosts,  and  such  secrets  cannot  be  kept. 
But  why  have  they  treated  you  thus  ?  Because  you  fought 
against  them  ?  ' 

'  Are  we  alone  ?  '  I  asked. 

1  The  guard  is  without,  but  there  are  none  else  in  the 
chamber.' 

*  Then  bend  down  your  head  and  I  will  tell  you,'  and  I 
told  her  all. 

When  I  had  done  so  she  sprang  up  with  flashing  eyes  and 
her  hand  pressed  upon  her  breast,  and  said : 

'  Oh  !  if  I  loved  you  before,  now  I  love  you  more  if  that  is 
possible,  who  could  suffer  thus  horribly  and  yet  be  faithful  to 
the  fallen  and  your  oath.  Blessed  be  the  day  when  first  I 
looked  upon  your  face,  0  my  husband,  most  true  of  men. 
But  they  who  could  do  this — what  of  them  ?  Still  it  is  done 
with  and  I  will  nurse  you  back  to  health.  Surely  it  is  done 
with,  or  they  had  not  suffered  me  to  come  to  you  ?  ' 

'  Alas  !  Otomie,  I  must  tell  all — it  is  not  done  with,'  and 
with  faltering  voice  I  went  on  with  the  tale,  yes,  and  since 
I  must,  I  told  her  for  what  purpose  she  had  been  brought  here. 
She  listened  without  a  word,  though  her  lips  turned  pale. 

'  Truly,'  she  said  when  I  had  done,  '  these  Teules  far 
surpass  the  pabas  of  our  people,  for  if  the  priests  torture  and 
sacrifice,  it  is  to  the  gods  and  not  for  gold  and  secret  hate. 
Now,  husband,  what  is  your  counsel  ?  Surely  you  have  some 
counsel.' 

'  I  have  none  that  I  dare  offer,  wife,'  I  groaned. 

'  You  are  timid  as  a  girl  who  will  not  utter  the  love  she 

burns  to  tell,'  Otomie  answered  with  a  proud  and  bitter  laugh. 

Well,  I  will  speak  it  for  you.     It  is  in  your  mind  that  we 


must  die  to-night.' 

'  It  is,'  I  said ;  l  death 


now,  or  shame  and  agony  to-morrow 
and  then  death  at  last,  that  is  our  choice.  Since  God  will 
not  protect  us,  we  must  protect  ourselves  if  we  can  find  the 
means.* 


DE   GARCIA   SPEAKS  HIS   MIND  237 

'  God  !  there  is  no  God.  At  times  I  have  doubted  the 
gods  of  my  people  and  turned  to  yours  ;  now  I  renounce  and 
reject  Him.  If  there  were  a  God  of  mercy  such  as  you  cling 
to,  could  He  suffer  that  such  things  be  ?  You  are  my  god, 
husband,  to  you  and  for  you  I  pray,  and  you  alone.  Let  us 
have  done  now  with  pleading  to  those  who  are  not,  or  who,  if 
they  live,  are  deaf  to  our  cries  and  blind  to  our  misery,  and 
befriend  ourselves.  Yonder  lies  rope,  that  window  has  bars, 
very  soon  we  can  be  beyond  the  sun  and  the  cruelty  of 
Teules,  or  sound  asleep.  But  there  is  time  yet ;  let  us  talk 
a  while,  they  will  scarcely  begin  their  torments  before  the 
dawn,  and  ere  dawn  we  shall  be  far.' 

So  we  talked  as  well  as  my  sufferings  would  allow.  We 
talked  of  how  we  first  had  met,  of  how  Otomie  had  been 
vowed  to  me  as  the  wife  of  Tezcat,  Soul  of  the  World,  of  that 
day  when  we  had  lain  side  by  side  upon  the  stone  of  sacri- 
fice, of  our  true  marriage  thereafter,  of  the  siege  of  Tenoctitlan 
and  the  death  of  our  firstborn.  Thus  we  talked  till  midnight 
was  two  hours  gone.  Then  there  came  a  silence. 

*  Husband,'  said  Otomie  at  last  in  a  hushed  and  solemn 
voice,  '  you  are  worn  with  suffering,  and  I  am  weary.     It  is 
time  to  do  that  which  must  be  done.     Sad  is  our  fate,  but  at 
least   rest  is   before   us.     I   thank  you,   husband,   for  your 
gentleness,  I  thank  you   more  for  your  faithfulness  to  my 
house  and  people.     Shall  I  make  ready  for  our  last  journey  ?  ' 

'  Make  ready  !  '  I  answered. 

Then  she  rose  and  soon  was  busy  with  the  ropes.  At 
length  all  was  prepared  and  the  moment  of  death  was  at 
hand. 

'You  must  aid  me,  Otomie,'  I  said;  *I  cannot  walk  by 
myself.' 

She  came  and  lifted  me  with  her  strong  and  tender  arms, 
till  I  stood  upon  a  stool  beneath  the  window  bars.  There 
she  placed  the  rope  about  my  throat,  then  taking  her  stand  by 
me  she  fitted  the  second  rope  upon  her  own.  Now  we  kissed 
in  solemn  silence,  for  there  was  nothing  more  to  say.  Yet 
Otomie  said  something,  asking  : 

*  Of  whom  do  you  think  in  this  moment,  husband  ?   Of  me 
and  of  my  dead  child,  or  of  that  lady  who  lives  far  across  the 
sea  ?     Nay,  I  will  not  ask.     I  have  been  happy  in  my  love,  it 
is  enough.     Now  love  and  life  must  end  together,  and  it  is 
well  for  me,  but  for  you  I  grieve.     Say,  shall  I  thrust  away 
the  stool  ? ' 

*  Yes,  Otomie,  since  there  is  no  hope  but  death.    I  cannot 


238  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

break  my  faith  with  Guatemoe,  nor  can  I  live  to  see  you 
shamed  and  tortured.' 

1  Then  kiss  me  first  and  for  the  last  time.' 

We  kissed  again  and  then,  as  she  was  in  the  very  act  of 
pushing  the  stool  from  beneath  us,  the  door  opened  and  shut, 
and  a  veiled  woman  stood  before  us,  bearing  a  torch  in  one 
hand  and  a  bundle  in  the  other.  She  looked,  and  seeing  us 
and  our  dreadful  purpose,  ran  to  us. 

1  What  do  you  ?  '  she  cried,  and  I  knew  the  voice  for  that 
of  Marina.  '  Are  you  then  mad,  Teule  ?  ' 

1  Who  is  this  who  knows  you  so  well,  husband,  and  will 
not  even  suffer  that  we  die  in  peace  ?  '  asked  Otomie. 

'  I  am  Marina,'  answered  the  veiled  woman,  '  and  I  come 
to  save  you  if  I  can.' 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE    ESCAPE 

Now  Otomie  put  the  rope  off  her  neck,  and  descending  from 
the  stool,  stood  before  Marina. 

'  You  are  Marina,'  she  said  coldly  and  proudly,  '  and  you 
come  to  save  us,  you  who  have  brought  ruin  on  the  land  that 
bore  you,  and  have  given  thousands  of  her  children  to  death, 
and  shame,  and  torment.  Now,  if  I  had  my  way,  I  would 
have  none  of  your  salvation,  nay,  I  would  rather  save  myself 
as  I  was  about  to  do.' 

Thus  Otomie  spoke,  and  never  had  she  looked  more  royal 
than  in  this  moment,  when  she  risked  her  last  chance  of  life 
that  she  might  pour  out  her  scorn  upon  one  whom  she  deemed 
a  traitress,  no,  one  who  was  a  traitress,  for  had  it  not  been 
for  Marina's  wit  and  aid,  Cortes  would  never  have  conquered 
Anahuac.  I  trembled  as  I  heard  her  angry  words,  for,  all  I 
suffered  notwithstanding,  life  still  seemed  sweet  to  me,  who, 
ten  seconds  ago,  had  stood  upon  the  verge  of  death.  Surely 
Marina  would  depart  and  leave  us  to  our  doom.  But  it  was  not 
so.  Indeed,  she  shrank  and  trembled  before  Otomie's  con- 
tempt. They  were  a  strange  contrast  in  their  different  loveli- 
ness as  they  stood  face  to  face  in  the  torture  den,  and  it  was 
strange  also  to  see  the  spirit  of  the  lady  of  royal  blood, 
threatened  as  she  was  with  a  shameful  death,  or  still  more 
shameful  life,  triumph  over  the  Indian  girl  whom  to-day 
fortune  had  set  as  far  above  her  as  the  stars. 


THE  ESCAPE  239 

'Say,  royal  lady,'  asked  Marina  in  her  gentle  voice, 
€  for  what  cause  did  you,  if  tales  are  true,  lie  by  the  side  of 
yonder  white  man  upon  the  stone  of  sacrifice  ?  ' 

'  Because  I  love  him,  Marina.' 

'  And  for  this  same  cause  have  I,  Marina,  laid  my  honour 
upon  a  different  altar,  for  this  same  cause  I  have  striven  against 
the  children  of  my  people,  because  I  love  another  such  as  he. 
It  is  for  love  of  Cortes  that  I  have  aided  Cortes,  therefore 
despise  me  not,  but  let  your  love  plead  for  mine,  seeing  that, 
to  us  women,  love  is  all.  I  have  sinned,  I  know,  but  doubt- 
less in  its  season  my  sin  shall  find  a  fitting  punishment.' 

'  It  had  need  be  sharp,'  answered  Otomie.  '  My  love  has 
harmed  none,  see  before  you  but  one  grain  of  the  countless 
harvest  of  your  own.  In  yonder  chair  Guatemoc  your  king 
was  this  day  tortured  by  your  master  Cortes,  who  swore  to 
treat  him  with  all  honour.  By  his  side  sat  Teule,  my  hus- 
band and  your  friend ;  him  Cortes  gave  over  to  his  private 
enemy,  de  Garcia,  whom  you  name  Sarceda.  See  how  he  has 
left  him.  Nay,  do  not  shudder,  gentle  lady  ;  look  now  at  his 
wounds  !  Consider  to  what  a  pass  we  are  driven  when  you  find 
us  about  to  die  thus  like  dogs,  he,  my  husband,  that  he  may  not 
live  to  see  me  handled  as  he  has  been,  and  I  with  him,  because 
a  princess  of  the  Otomie  and  of  Montezuma's  blood  cannot 
submit  to  such  a  shame  while  death  has  one  door  through  which 
to  creep.  It  is  but  a  single  grain  of  your  harvest,  outcast 
and  traitress,  the  harvest  of  misery  and  death  that  is  stored 
yonder  in  the  ruins  of  Tenoctitlan.  Had  I  my  will,  I  tell  you 
that  I  had  sooner  die  a  score  of  times  than  take  help  from 
a  hand  so  stained  with  the  blood  of  my  people  and  of  yours 

_L 

'  Oh !  cease,  lady,  cease,'  groaned  Marina,  covering  her 
eyes  with  her  hand,  as  though  the  sight  of  Otomie  were  dread- 
ful to  her.  4  What  is  done  is  done  ;  do  not  add  to  my  remorse. 
What  did  you  say,  that  you,  the  lady  Otomie,  were  brought  hero 
to  be  tortured  ?  ' 

'  Even  so,  and  before  my  husband's  eyes.  Why  should 
Montezuma's  daughter  and  the  princess  of  the  Otomie  escape 
the  fate  of  the  Emperor  of  the  Aztecs?  If  her  womanhood 
does  not  protect  her,  has  she  anything  to  hope  of  her  lost 
rank  ?  ' 

'  Cortes  knows  nothing  of  this,  I  swear  it,'  said  Marina. 
*  To  the  rest  he  has  been  driven  by  the  clamour  of  the  soldiers, 
who  taunt  him  with  stealing  treasure  that  he  has  never 
found.  But  of  this  last  wickedness  he  is  innocent.' 


240  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

1  Then,  let  him  ask  his  tool  Sarceda  of  it.' 

1  As  for  Sarceda,  I  promise  you,  princess,  that  if  I  can  I 
will  avenge  this  threat  upon  him.  But  time  is  short,  I  am 
come  here  with  the  knowledge  of  Cortes,  to  see  if  I  can  win 
the  secret  of  the  treasure  from  Teule,  your  husband,  and  for 
my  friendship's  sake  I  am  about  to  betray  my  trust  and  help 
him  and  you  to  fly.  Do  you  refuse  my  aid  ?  ' 

Otomie  said  nothing,  but  I  spoke  for  the  first  time. 

'  Nay,  Marina,  I  have  no  love  for  this  thief's  fate  if  I  can 
escape  it,  but  how  is  it  to  be  done  ?  ' 

'  The  chance  is  poor  enough,  Teule,  but  I  bethought  me 
that  once  out  of  this  prison  you  might  slip  away  disguised. 
Few  will  be  stirring  at  dawn,  and  of  them  the  most  will  not  be 
keen  to  notice  men  or  things.  See,  I  have  brought  you  the  dress 
of  a  Spanish  soldier  ;  your  skin  is  dark,  and  in  the  half  light 
you  might  pass  as  one  ;  and  for  the  princess  your  wife,  I  have 
brought  another  dress,  indeed  I  am  ashamed  to  offer  it,  but 
it  is  the  only  one  that  will  not  be  noted  at  this  hour  ;  also,  Teule, 
I  bring  you  a  sword,  that  which  was  taken  from  you,  though 
I  think  that  once  it  had  another  owner.' 

Now  while  she  spoke  Marina  undid  her  bundle,  and  there 
in  it  were  the  dresses  and  the  sword,  the  same  that  I  had  taken 
from  the  Spaniard  Diaz  in  the  massacre  of  the  noclie  triste. 
First  she  drew  out  the  woman's  robe  and  handed  it  to 
Otomie,  and  I  saw  that  it  was  such  a  robe  as  among  the 
Indians  is  worn  by  the  women  who  follow  camps,  a  robe 
with  red  and  yellow  in  it.  Otomie  saw  it  also  and  drew 
back. 

'  Surely,  girl,  you  have  brought  a  garment  of  your  own  in 
error,'  she  said  quietly,  but  in  such  a  fashion  as  showed 
more  of  the  savage  heart  that  is  native  to  her  race  than  she 
often  suffered  to  be  seen  ;  '  at  the  least  I  cannot  wear  such 
robes.' 

1  It  seems  that  I  must  bear  too  much,'  answered  Marina, 
growing  wroth  at  last,  and  striving  to  keep  back  the  tears 
that  started  to  her  eyes.  *  I  will  away  and  leave  you  ;  '  and 
she  began  to  roll  up  her  bundle. 

1  Forgive  her,  Marina,'  I  said  hastily,  for  the  desire  to 
escape  grew  on  me  every  minute  ;  '  sorrow  has  set  an  edge 
upon  her  tongue.'  Then  turning  to  Otomie  I  added,  '  I  pray 
you  be  more  gentle,  wife,  for  my  sake  if  not  for  your  own. 
Marina  is  our  only  hope.' 

1  Would  that  she  had  left  us  to  die  in  peace,  husband. 
Well,  so  be  it,  for  your  sake  I  will  put  on  these  garments  of  & 


THE  ESCAPE  241 

drab.  But  how  shall  we  escape  out  of  this  place  and  the  camp  ? 
Will  the  door  be  opened  to  us,  and  the  guards  removed,  and 
if  we  pass  them,  can  you  walk,  husband  ?  ' 

*  The  doors  will  not  be  opened,  lady,'  said  Marina, '  for  those 
wait  without,  who  will  see  that  they  are  locked  when  I  have 
passed  them.  But  there  will  be  nothing  to  fear  from  the  guard, 
trust  to  me  for  it.  See,  the  bars  of  this  window  are  but  of 
wood,  that  sword  will  soon  sever  them,  and  if  you  are  seen 
you  must  play  the  part  of  a  drunken  soldier  being  guided  to  his 
quarters  by  a  woman.  For  the  rest  I  know  nothing,  save  that  I 
run  great  risk  for  your  sakes,  since  if  it  is  discovered  that  I  have 
aided  you,  then  I  shall  find  it  hard  to  soften  the  rage  of 
Cortes,  who,  the  war  being  won,'  and  she  sighed,  '  does  not 
need  me  now  so  much  as  once  he  did.' 

1 1  can  make  shift  to  hop  on  my  right  foot,'  I  said,  '  and  for 
the  rest  we  must  trust  to  fortune.  It  can  give  us  no  worse 
gifts  than  those  we  have  already.' 

'  So  be  it,  Teule,  and  now  farewell,  for  I  dare  stay  no 
longer.  I  can  do  nothing  more.  May  your  good  star  shine 
on  you  and  lead  you  hence'  in  safety ;  and  Teule,  if  we  never 
meet  again,  I  pray  you  think  of  me  kindly,  for  there  are 
many  in  the  world  who  will  do  otherwise  in  the  days  to 
come.' 

'  Farewell,  Marina,'  I  said,  and  she  was  gone. 

We  heard  the  doors  close  behind  her,  and  the  distant 
voices  of  those  who  bore  her  litter,  then  all  was  silence. 
Otomie  listened  at  the  window  for  a  while,  but  the  guards 
seemed  to  be  gone,  where  or  why  I  do  not  know  to  this  hour, 
and  the  only  sound  was  that  of  distant  revelry  from  the 
camp. 

1  And  now  to  the  work,'  I  said  to  Otomie. 

'As  you  wish,  husband,  but  I  fear  it  will  be  profitless. 
I  do  not  trust  that  woman.  Faithless  in  all,  without  doubt 
she  betrays  us.  Still  at  the  worst  you  have  the  sword,  and 
can  use  it.' 

1  It  matters  little,'  I  answered.  '  Our  plight  cannot  be  worse 
than  it  is  now  ;  life  has  no  greater  evils  than  torment  and 
death,  and  they  are  with  us  already.' 

Then  I  sat  upon  the  stool,  and* my  arms  being  left  sound 
and  strong,  I  hacked  with  the  sharp  sword  at  the  wooden 
bars  of  the  window,  severing  them  one  by  one  till  there  was  a 
space  big  enough  for  us  to  creep  through.  This  being  done 
and  no  one  having  appeared  to  disturb  us,  Otomie  clad  me  in 
the  clothes  of  a  Spanish  soldier  which  Marina  had  brought 


242  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

for  I  could  not  dress  myself.  What  I  suffered  in  the  donning 
of  those  garments,  and  more  especially  in  the  pulling  of  the 
long  boot  on  to  my  burnt  foot,  can  never  be  told,  but  more 
than  once  I  stopped,  pondering  whether  it  would  not  be 
better  to  die  rather  than  to  endure  such  agonies.  At  last  it 
was  done,  and  Otomie  must  put  on  the  red  and 'yellow  robe, 
a  garb  of  shame  such  as  many  honest  Indian  women  would 
die  sooner  than  be  seen  in,  and  I  think  that  as  she  did  this, 
her  agony  was  greater  than  mine,  though  of  another  sort, 
for  to  her  proud  heart,  that  dress  was  a  very  shirt  of  Nessus. 
Presently  she  was  clad,  and  minced  before  me  with  savage 
mockery,  saying: 

'  Prithee.,  soldier,  do  I  look  my  part  ?  ' 

1  A  peace  to  such  fooling,'  I  answered ;  '  our  lives  are  at 
stake,  what  does  it  matter  how  we  disguise  ourselves  ?  ' 

'  It  matters  much,  husband,  but  how  can  you  understand, 
who  are  a  man  and  a  foreigner  ?  Now  I  will  clamber  through 
the  window,  and  you  mus^t  follow  me  if  you  can,  if  not  1  will 
return  to  you  and  we  will  end  this  masquerade.' 

Then  she  passed  through  the  hole  swiftly,  for  Otomie  was 
agile  and  strong  as  an  ocelot,  and  mounting  the  stool  I  made 
shift  to  follow  her  as  well  as  my  hurts  would  allow.  In  the 
end  I  was  able  to  throw  myself  upon  the  sill  of  the  window, 
and  there  I  was  stretched  out  like  a  dead  cat  till  she  drew  me 
across  it,  and  I  fell  with  her  to  the  ground  on  the  further 
side,  and  lay  groaning.  She  lifted  me  to  my  feet,  or 
rather  to  my  foot,  for  I  could  use  but  one  of  them,  and  we 
stared  round  us.  No  one  was  to  be  seen,  and  the  sound  of 
revelry  had  died  away,  for  the  crest  of  Popo  was  already  red 
with  the  sunlight  and  the  dawn  grew  in  the  Valley. 

'  Where  to  ?  '  I  said. 

Now  Otomie  had  been  allowed  to  walk  in  the  camp  with 
her  sister,  the  wife  of  Guatemoc,  and  other  Aztec  ladies,  and 
she  had  this  gift  in  common  with  most  Indians,  that  where 
she  had  once  passed  there  she  could  pass  again,  even  in  the 
darkest  night. 

'To  the  south  gate,'  she  whispered;  'perhaps  it  is  un- 
guarded now  that  the- war  is  done,  at  the  least  I  know  the  road 
thither.' 

So  we  started,  I  leaning  on  her  shoulder  and  hopping  or. 
my  right  foot,  and  thus  very  painfully  we  traversed  some* 
three  hundred  yards  meeting  nobody.  But  now  our  good 
luck  failed  us,  for  passing  round  the  corner  of  some  buildings, 
we  came  face  to  face  with  three  soldiers  returning  to  thei:.1 


She  drew  me  across  the  sill. 


THE  ESCAPE  243 

huts   from   a  midnight  revel,   and  with   them  some    native 
servants. 

'  Whom  have  we  here  ?  '  said  the  first  of  these.  '  Your  name, 
comrade  ? ' 

*  Good-night,  brother,  good-night,'  I  answered  in  Spanish, 
speaking  with  the  thick  voice  of  drunkenness. 

'  Good  morning,  you  mean,'  he  said,  for  the  dawn  was 
breaking.  '  Your  name.  I  don't  know  your  face,  though  it 
seems  that  you  have  been  in  the  wars,'  and  he  laughed. 

.  '  You  mustn't  ask  a  comrade  his  name,'  I  said  solemnly 
and  swinging  to  and  fro.  '  The  captain  might  send  for  me 
and  he's  a  temperate  man.  Your  arm,  girl ;  it  is  time  to  go 
to  sleep,  the  sun  sets.' 

They  laughed,  but  one  of  them  addressed  Otomie,  saying  : 

*  Leave  the  sot,  my  pretty,  and  come  and  walk  with  us,' 
and  he  caught  her  by  the  arm.     But  she  turned  on  him  witb 
so  fierce  a  look  that  he  let  her  go  again  astonished,  and  we 
staggered  on  till  the  corner  of  another  house  hid  us  from  their 
view.   Here  I  sank  to  the  ground  overcome  with  pain,  for  while 
the  soldiers  were  in  sight,  I  was  obliged  to  use  my  wounded  foot 
lest  they  should  suspect.     But  Otomie  pulled  me  up,  yaying  ; 

*  Alas  !  beloved,  we  must  pass  on  or  perish  ' 

1  rose  groaning,  and  by  what  efforts  I  reached  the  south 
gate  I  cannot  describe,  though  I  thought  that  I  must  die  before 
I  came  there.  At  last  it  was  before  us,  and  as  chance  would 
have  it,  the  Spanish  guard  were  asleep  in  the  guardhouse. 
Three  Tlascalans  only  were  crouched  over  a  little  fire,  their 
zerapes  or  blankets  about  their  heads,  for  the  dawn  was 
chilly. 

'  Open  the  gates,  dogs  !  '  I  said  in  a  proud  voice. 

Seeing  a  Spanish  soldier  one  of  them  rose  to  obey,  then 
paused  and  said : 

'  Why,  and  by  whose  orders  ?  ' 

1  could  not  see  the  man's  face  because  of  the  blanket,  but 
his  voice  sounded  familiar  to  me  and  I  grew  afraid.  Still  I 
must  speak. 

'  Why  ? — because  I  am  drunk  and  wish  to  lie  without  till 
I  grow  sober.  By  whose  orders  ?  By  mine,  I  am  an  officer  of 
the  day,  and  if  you  disobey  I'll  have  you  flogged  till  you  never 
ask  another  question.' 

'  Shall  I  call  the  Teules  within  ?  '  said  the  man  sulkily  to 
his  companion. 

1  No,'  he  answered  ;  '  the  lord  Sarceda  is  weary  and  gave 
orders  that  he  should  not  be  awakened  without  good  cause. 


244  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

Keep  them  in  or  let  them  through  as  you  will,  hut  do  not  wake 
him.' 

I  trembled  in  every  limb ;  de  Garcia  was  in  the  guard- 
house !  What  if  he  awoke,  what  if  he  came  out  and  saw  me  ? 
More — now  I  guessed  whose  voice  it  was  that  I  knew  again  ;  it 
was  that  of  one  of  those  Tlascalans  who  had  aided  in  torment- 
ing me.  What  if  he  should  see  my  face  ?  He  could  scarcely 
fail  to  know  that  on  which  he  had  left  his  mark  so  recently.  I 
was  dumb  with  fear  and  could  say  nothing,  and  had  it  not 
been  for  the  wit  of  Otomie,  there  my  story  would  have  ended. 
But  now  she  played  her  part  and  played  it  well,  plying  the  man 
with  the  coarse  raillery  of  the  camp,  till  at  length  she  put  him 
in  a  good  humour,  and  he  opened  the  gate,  bidding  her  begone 
and  me  with  her.  Already  we  had  passed  the  gate  when  a 
sudden  faintness  seized  me,  and  I  stumbled  and  fell,  rolling 
over  on  to  my  back  as  I  touched  the  earth. 

1  Up,  friend,  up  !  '  said  Otomie,  with  a  harsh  laugh.  '  If 
you  must  sleep,  wait  till  you  find  some  friendly  bush,'  and  she 
dragged  at  me  to  lift  me.  The  Tlascalan,  still  laughing,  came 
forward  to  help  her,  and  between  them  I  gained  my  feet  again, 
but  as  I  rose,  my  cap,  which  fitted  me  but  ill,  fell  off.  He 
picked  it  up  and  gave  it  to  me  and  our  eyes  met,  my  face  being 
somewhat  in  the  shadow.  Next  instant  I  was  hobbling  on,  but 
looking  back,  I  saw  the  Tlascalan  staring  after  us*  with  a  puzzled 
air,  like  that  of  a  man  who  is  not  sure  of  the  witness  of  his 
senses. 

'  He  knows  me,'  I  said  to  Otomie,  '  and  presently  when  he 
has  found  his  wits,  he  will  follow  us.' 

'  On,  on  !  '  answered  Otomie  ;  '  round  yonder  corner  are  aloe 
bushes  where  we  may  hide.' 

'  I  am  spent,  I  can  no  more  ;  '  and  again  I  began  to  fall. 

Then  Otomie  caught  me  as  I  fell,  and  of  a  sudden  she  put  out 
her  strength,  and  lifting  me  from  the  ground,  as  a  mother  lifts 
her  child,  staggered  forward  holding  me  to  her  breast.  For 
fifty  paces  or  more  she  carried  me  thus,  love  and  despair  giving 
her  strength,  till  at  last  we  reached  the  edge  of  the  aloe  plants 
and  there  we  sank  together  to  the  earth.  I  cast  my  eyes  back 
over  the  path  which  we  had  travelled.  Round  the  corner  came 
the  Tlascalan,  a  spiked  club  in  his  hand,  seeking  us  to  solve 
his  doubts. 

1  It  is  finished,'  I  gasped  ;  '  the  man  comes.' 

For  answer  Otomie  drew  my  sword  from  its  scabbard  and 
hid  it  in  the  grass.  *  Now  feign  sleep,'  she  said  ;  '  it  is  our  last 
chance.' 


THE  ESCAPE  245 

I  cast  my  arm  over  my  face  and  pretended  to  be  asleep. 
Presently  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  man  passing  through  the 
bushes,  and  the  Tlascalan  stood  over  me. 

'  What  would  you  ?  '  asked  Otomie.  *  Can  you  not  see  that 
he  sleeps  ?  Let  him  sleep.' 

*  I  must  look  on  his  face  first,  woman,'  he  answered,  drag- 
ging aside  my  arm.    '  By  the  gods,  I  thought  so  !    This  is  that 
Teule  whom  we  dealt  with  yesterday  and  who  escapes.' 

'  You  are  mad,'  she  said  laughing.  *  He  has  escaped  from 
nowhere,  save  from  a  brawl  and  a  drinking  bout.' 

'  You  lie,  woman,  or  if  you  do  not  lie,  you  know  nothing. 
This  man  has  the  secret  of  Montezuma's  treasure,  and  is  worth 
a  king's  ransom,'  and  he  lifted  his  club. 

1  And  yet  you  wish  to  slay  him !  Well,  I  know  nothing  of 
him.  Take  him  back  whence  he  came.  He  is  but  a  drunken 
sot  and  I  shall  be  well  rid  of  him.' 

'  Well  said.  It  would  be  foolish  to  kill  him,  but  by  bear- 
ing him  alive  to  the  lord  Sarceda,  I  shall  win  honour  and 
reward.  Come,  help  me.' 

'  Help  yourself,'  she  answered  sullenly.  '  But  first  search 
his  pouch  ;  there  may  be  some  trifle  there  which  we  can  divide.' 

*  Well  said,  again,'  he  answered,  and  kneeling  down  he 
bent  over  me  and  began  to  fumble  at  the  fastenings  of  the 
pouch. 

Otomie  was  behind  him.  I  saw  her  face  change  and  a  ter- 
rible light  came  into  her  eyes,  such  a  light  as  shines  in  the 
eyes  of  the  priest  at  sacrifice.  Quick  as  thought  she  drew  the 
sword  from  the  grass  and  smote  with  all  her  strength  upon  the 
man's  bent  neck.  Down  he  fell,  making  no  sound,  and  she  also 
fell  beside  him.  In  a  moment  she  was  on  her  feet  again, 
staring  at  him  wildly — the  naked  sword  in  her  hand. 

'  Up,'  she  said,  '  before  others  come  to  seek  him.  Nay,  you 
must.' 

Now,  again  we  were  struggling  forward  through  the  bushes, 
my  mind  filled  with  a  great  wonder  that  grew  slowly  to  a 
whirling  nothingness.  For  a  while  it  seemed  to  me  as  though 
I  were  lost  in  an  evil  dream  and  walking  on  red  hot  irons  in 
my  dream.  Then  came  a  vision  of  armed  men  with  lifted 
spears,  and  of  Otomie  running  towards  them  with  outstretched 
arms. 

I  knew  no  more. 


246  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

CHAPTER   XXXI 

OTOMIE  PLEADS  WITH  HER  PEOPLE 

WHEN  I  awoke  it  was  to  find  myself  in  a  cave,  where  the 
light  shone  very  dimly.  Otomie  leant  over  me,  and  not 
far  away  a  man  was  cooking  a  pot  over  a  fire  made  of  dry 
aloe  leaves. 

1  Where  am  I  and  what  has  happened  ?  '  I  asked. 

*  You  are  safe,  beloved,'  she  answered,  '  at  least  for  awhile. 
When  you  have  eaten  I  will  tell  you  more.' 

She  brought  me  broth  and  food  and  I  ate  eagerly,  and 
when  I  was  satisfied  she  spoke. 

'  You  remember  how  the  Tlascalan  followed  us  and  how 
— I  was  rid  of  him  ?  ' 

'  I  remember,  Otomie,  though  how  you  found  strength  to 
kill  him  I  do  not  understand.' 

'  Love  and  despair  gave  it  to  me,  and  I  pray  that  I  may 
never  have  such  another  need.  Do  not  speak  of  it,  husband, 
for  this  is  more  horrible  to  me  than  all  that  has  been  before. 
One  thing  comforts  me,  however  ;  I  did  not  kill  him,  the 
sword  twisted  in  my  hand  and  I  believe  that  he  was  but  stunned. 
Then  we  fled  a  little  way,  and  looking  back  I  saw  that  two  other 
Tlascalans,  companions  of  the  senseless  man,  were  following 
us  and  him.  Presently,  they  came  up  to  where  he  lay  and 
stared  at  him.  Then  they  started  on  our  tracks,  running 
hard,  and  very  soon  they  must  have  caught  us,  for  now  you 
could  scarcely  stir,  your  mind  was  gone,  and  I  had  no  more 
strength  to  carry  you.  Still  we  stumbled  on  till  presently, 
when  the  pursuers  were  within  fifty  paces  of  us,  I  saw 
armed  men,  eight  of  them,  rushing  at  us  from  the  bushes. 
They  were  of  my  own  people,  the  Otomies,  soldiers  that  had 
served  under  you,  who  watched  the  Spanish  camp,  and  seeing 
a  Spaniard  alone  they  came  to  slay  him.  They  very  nearly 
did  so  indeed,  for  at  first  I  was  so  breathless  that  I  could 
scarcely  speak,  but  at  last  in  few  words  I  made  shift  to  declare 
my  name  and  rank,  and  your  sad  plight.  By  now  the  two 
Tlascalans  were  upon  us,  and  I  called  to  the  men  of  the  Otomie 
to  protect  us,  and  falling  on  the  Tlascalans  before  they  knew 
that  enemies  were  there,  they  killed  one  of  them  and  took  the 
other  prisoner.  Then  they  made  a  litter,  and  placing  you  on 
it,  bore  you  without  rest  twenty  leagues  into  the  mountains, 
till  they  reached  this  secret  hiding  place,  and  here  you  have  lain 


OTOMJE  PLEADS    WITH  HER  PEOPLE        247 

three  days  and  night?.  The  Teules  have  searched  for  you  far 
and  wide,  but  they  have  searched  in  vain.  Only  yesterday  two 
of  them  with  ten  Tlascalans,  passed  within  a  hundred  paces 
of  this  cave  and  I  had  much  ado  to  prevent  our  people  from 
attacking  them.  Now  they  are  gone  whence  they  came,  and 
I  think  that  we  are  safe  for  a  time.  Soon  you  will  be  better 
and  we  can  go  hence.' 

*  Where  can  we  go  to,  Otomie  ?    We  are  birds  without  a 
nest.' 

*  We  must  seek  shelter  in  the  City  of  Pines,  or  fly  across 
the  water  ;  there  is  no  other  choice,  husband.' 

'  We  cannot  try  the  sea,  Otomie,  for  all  the  ships  that 
come  here  are  Spanish,  and  I  do  not  know  how  they  will 
greet  us  in  the  City  of  Pines  now  that  our  cause  is  lost,  and 
with  it  so  many  thousands  of  their  warriors.' 

1  We  must  take  the  risk,  husband.  There  are  still  true 
hearts  in  Anahuac,  who  will  stand  by  us  in  our  sorrow  and 
their  own.  At  the  least  we  have  escaped  from  greater  dangers. 
Now  let  me  dress  your  wounds  and  rest  awhile.' 

So  for  three  more  days  I  lay  in  the  cave  of  the  mountains 
and  Otomie  tended  me,  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  my  state 
was  such  that  I  could  travel  in  a  litter,  though  for  some 
weeks  I  was  unable  to  set  foot  to  the  ground.  On  the  fourth 
day  we  started  by  night,  and  I  was  carried  on  men's  shoulders 
till  at  length  we  passed  up  the  gorge  that  leads  to  the  City  of 
Pines.  Here  we  were  stopped  by  sentries  to  whom  Otomie 
told  our  tale,  bidding  some  of  them  go  forward  and  repeat 
it  to  the  captains  of  the  city.  We  followed  the  messengers 
slowly,  for  my  bearers  were  weary,  and  came  to  the  gates  of 
the  beautiful  town  just  as  the  red  rays  of  sunset  struck  upon 
the  snowy  pinnacle  of  Xaca  that  towers  behind  it,  turning  her 
cap  of  smoke  to  a  sullen  red,  like  that  of  molten  iron. 

The  news  of  our  coming  had  spread  about,  and  here  and 
there  knots  of  people  were  gathered  to  watch  us  pass.  For 
the  most  part  they  stood  silent,  but  now^  and  again  some 
woman  whose  husband  or  son  had  perished  in  the  siege,  would 
hiss  a  curse  at  us. 

Alas  !  how  different  was  our  state  this  day  to  what  it  had 
been  when  not  a  year  before  we  entered  the  City  of  Pines 
for  the  first  time.  Then  we  were  escorted  by  an  army  ten 
thousand  strong,  then  musicians  had  sung  before  us  and  our 
path  was  strewn  with  flowers.  And  now  !  Now  we  came  two 
fugitives  from  the  vengeance  of  the  Teules,  I  borne  in  a  litter 
by  four  tired  soldiers,  while  Otomie,  the  princess  of  this 


248  StONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

people,  still  clad  in  her  wanton's  robe,  at  which  the  women 
mocked,  for  she  had  been  able  to  come  by  no  other,  tramped 
at  my  side,  since  there  were  none  to  carry  her,  and  the  in- 
habitants of  the  place  cursed  us  as  the  authors  of  their  woes. 
Nor  did  we  know  if  they  would  stop  at  words. 

At  length  we  crossed  the  square  beneath  the  shadow  of 
the  teocalli,  and  reached  the  ancient  and  sculptured  palace  as 
the  light  failed,  and  the  smoke  on  Xaca,  the  holy  hill,  began 
to  glow  with  the  fire  in  its  heart.  Here  small  preparation 
had  been  made  to  receive  us,  and  that  night  we  supped  by 
the  light  of  a  torch  upon  tortillas  or  meal  cakes  and  water, 
like  the  humblest  in  the  land.  Then  we  crept  to  our  rest,  and 
as  I  lay  awake  because  of  the  pain  of  my  hurts,  I  heard 
Otomie,  who  thought  that  I  slept,  break  into  low  sobbing  at 
my  side.  Her  proud  spirit  was  humbled  at  last,  and  she, 
whom  I  had  never  known  to  weep  except  once,  when  our 
firstborn  died  in  the  siege,  wept  bitterly. 

'  Why  do  you  sorrow  thus,  Otomie  ?  '  I  asked  at  length. 

1 1  did  not  know  that  you  were  awake,  husband,'  she  sobbed 
in  answer,  '  or  I  would  have  checked  my  grief.  Husband,  I 
sorrow  over  all  that  has  befallen  us  and  my  people —also, 
though  these  are  but  little  things,  because  you  are  brought 
low  and  treated  as  a  man  of  no  estate,  and  of  the  cold  comfort 
that  we  find  here.' 

'  You  have  cause,  wife,'  I  answered.  c  Say,  what  will  these 
Otomies  do  with  us — kill  us,  or  give  us  up  to  the  Teules  ?  ' 

'  I  do  not  know  ;  to-morrow  we  shall  learn,  but  for  my  part 
I  will  not  be  surrendered  living.' 

'  Nor  I,  wife.  Death  is  better  than  the  tender  mercies  of 
Cortes  and  his  minister,  de  Garcia.  Is  there  any  hope  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  there  is  hope,  beloved.  Now  the  Otomie  are  cast 
down  and  they  remember  that  we  led  the  flower  of  their  land 
to  death.  But  they  are  brave  and  generous  at  heart,  and  if  I 
can  touch  them  there,  all  may  yet  be  well.  Weariness  pain 
and  memory  make  us  weak,  who  should  be  full  of  courage 
having  escaped  so  many  ills.  Sleep,  my  husband,  and  leave 
me  to  think.  All  shall  yet  go  well,  for  even  misfortune  has 
an  end.' 

So  I  slept,  and  woke  in  the  morning  somewhat  refreshed 
and  with  a  happier  mind,  for  who  is  there  that  is  not  bolder 
when  the  light  shines  on  him  and  he  is  renewed  by  rest  ? 

When  I  opened  my  eyes  the  sun  was  already  high,  but 
Otomie  had  risen  with  the  dawn  and  she  had  not  been  idle 


\B 


OTOM1E  PLEADS    WITH  HER  PEOPLE        249 

during  those  three  hours.  For  one  thing  she  had  contrived  to 
obtain  food  and  fresh  raiment  more  befitting  to  our  rank  than 
the  rags  in  which  we  were  clothed.  Also  she  had  brought  to- 
gether certain  men  of  condition  who  were  friendly  and  loyal 
to  her  in  misfortune,  and  these  she  sent  about  the  city,  letting 
it  be  known  that  she  would  address  the  people  at  mid-day  from 
the  steps  of  the  palace,  for  as  Otomie  knew  well,  the  heart- 
strings of  a  crowd  are  touched  more  easily  than  those  of  cold 
and  ancient  counsellors. 

'  Will  they  come  to  listen  ? '  I  asked. 

*  Have  no  fear,'  she  answered.  '  The  desire  to  look  upon 
us  who  have  survived  the  siege,  and  to  know  the  truth  of 
what  has  happened,  will  bring  them.  Moreover,  some  will  bo 
there  seeking  vengeance  on  us.' 

Otomie  was  right,  for  as  the  morning  drew  on  towards 
mid-day,  I  saw  the  dwellers  in  the  City  of  Pines  gathering  in 
thousands,  till  the  space  between  the  steps  of  the  palace  and  the 
face  of  the  pyramid  was  black  with  them.  Now  Otomie  combed 
her  curling  hair  and  placed  flowers  in  it,  and  set  a  gleaming 
feather  cloak  about  her  shoulders,  so  that  it  hung  down  over 
her  white  robes,  and  on  her  breast  that  splendid  necklace  of 
emeralds  which  Guatemoc  had  given  to  me  in  the  treasure 
chamber,  and  which  she  had  preserved  safely  through  all  our 
evil  fortune,  and  a  golden  girdle  about  her  waist.  In  her 
hand  also  she  took  a  little  sceptre  of  ebony  tipped  with  gold, 
that  was  in  the  palace,  with  other  ornaments  and  emblems  of 
rank,  and  thus  attired,  though  she  was  worn  with  travel  and 
suffering,  and  grief  had  dimmed  her  beauty  for  a  while,  she 
seemed  the  queenliest  woman  that  my  eyes  have  seen.  Next  she 
caused  me  to  be  laid  upon  my  rude  litter,  and  when  the  hour  of 
noon  was  come,  she  commanded  those  soldiers  who  had  borne  me 
across  the  mountains  to  carry  me  by  her  side.  Thus  we  issued 
from  the  wide  doorway  of  the  palace  and  took  our  stand  upon 
the  platform  at  the  head  of  the  steps.  As  we  came  a  great  cry 
rose  from  the  thousands  of  the  people,  a  fierce  cry  like  that  of 
wild  beasts  howling  for  their  prey.  Higher  and  higher  it  rose, 
a  sound  to  strike  terror  into  the  bravest  heart,  and  by  degrees 
I  caught  its  purport. 

'  Kill  them  ! '  said  the  cry.    '  Give  the  liars  to  the  Teules.' 

Otomie  stepped  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  platform,  and 
lifting  the  ebony  sceptre  she  stood  silent,  the  sunlight  beating 
n  her  lovely  face  and  form.  But  the  multitude  screamed  a 
thousand  taunts  and  threats  at  us,  and  still  the  tumult  grew. 
Once  they  rushed  towards  her  as  though  to  tear  her  to  pieces, 


250  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

but  fell  back  at  the  last  stair,  as  a  wave  falls  from  a  rock,  and 
once  a  spear  was  thrown  that  passed  between  her  neck  and 
shoulder. 

Now  the  soldiers  who  had  carried  me,  making  certain  that 
our  death  was  at  hand,  and  having  no  wish  to  share  it,  set  my 
litter  down  upon  the  stones  and  slipped  back  into  the  palace, 
but  all  this  while  Otomie  never  so  much  as  moved,  no,  not 
even  when  the  spear  hissed  past  her.  She  stood  before 
them  stately  and  scornful,  a  very  queen  among  women,  and 
little  by  little  the  majesty  of  her  presence  and  the  greatness  of 
.her  courage  hushed  them  to  silence.  When  there  was  quiet 
at  length,  she  spoke  in  a  clear  voice  that  carried  far. 

*  Am  I  among  my  own  people  of  the  Otomie  ?  '  she  asked 
bitterly,  '  or  have  we  lost  our  path  and  wandered  perchance 
among  some  savage  Tlascalan  tribe  ?  Listen,  people  of  the 
Otomie.  I  have  but  one  voice  and  none  can  reason  with  a 
multitude.  Choose  you  a  tongue  to  speak  for  you,  and  let  him 
set  out  the  desire  of  your  hearts.' 

Now  the  tumult  began  again,  for  some  shouted  one  nanif 
and  some  another,  but.  in  the  end  a  priest  and  noble  namec 
Maxtla  stepped  forward,  a  man  of  great  power  among  the 
Otomie,  who,  above  all  had  favoured  an  alliance  with  th< 
Spaniards  and  opposed  the  sending  of  an  army  to  air 
Guatemoc  in  the  defence  of  Tenoctitlaii.  Nor  did  he  conns 
alone,  for  with  him  were  four  chiefs,  whom  by  their  dress  '.', 
knew  to  be  Tlascalans  and  envoys  from  Cortes.  Then  my  hear : 
sank,  for  it  was  not  difficult  to  guess  the  object  of  their  coming . 

'  Speak  on,  Maxtla,'  said  Otomie,  *  for  wfc  must  hear  whau 
there  is  for  us  to  answer,  and  you,  people  of  the  Otomie, 
pray  you  keep  silence,  that  you  may  judge  between  us  whe:i 
there  is  an  end  of  talking.' 

Now  a  great  silence  fell  upon  the  multitude,  who  presse  1 
together  like  sheep  in  a  pen,  and  strained  their  ears  to  catcli 
the  words  of  Maxtla. 

'  My  speech  with  you,  princess,  and  the  Teule  your  out- 
lawed husband,  shall  be  short  and  sharp,'  he  began  roughly. 
'A  while  hence  you  came  hither  to  seek  an  army  to  a:d 
Cuitlahua,  Emperor  of  the  Aztecs,  in  his  struggle  with  the 
Teules,  the  sons  of  Quetzal.  That  army  was  given  you, 
against  the  wishes  of  many  of  us,  for  you  won  over  the  council 
by  the  honey  of  your  words,  and  we  who  urged  caution,  or 
even  an  alliance  with  the  white  men,  the  children  of  god, 
were  overruled.  You  went  hence,  and  twenty  thousand  men, 
the  flower  of  our  people,  followed  you  to  Tenoctitlan.  Where 


'Am  I  among  my  own  people  of  the  Otomie?' 


OTOMIE   PLEADS    WITH  HER  PEOPLE        251 

are  they  now  ?  I  will  tell  you.  Some  two  hundred  of  them 
have  crept  back  home,  the  rest  fly  to  and  fro  through  the  air 
in  the  gizzards  of  the  zaphilotes,  or  crouch  on  the  earth  in  the 
bellies  of  jackals.  Death  has  them  all,  and  you  led  them  to 
their  deaths.  Is  it  then  much  that  we  should  seek  the  lives  of 
you  two  in  payment  for  those  of  twenty  thousand  of  our  sons, 
our  husbands,  and  our  fathers  ?  But  we  do  not  even  ask  this. 
Here  beside  me  stand  ambassadors  from  Malinche,  the  captain 
of  the  Teules,  who  reached  our  city  but  an  hour  ago.  This  is  the 
demand  that  they  bring  from  Malinche,  and  in  his  own  words  : 

'  "  Deliver  back  to  me  Otomie,  the  daughter  of  Monte- 
zuma,  and  the  renegade  her  paramour,  who  is  known  as  Teule, 
and  who  has  fled  from  the  justice  due  to  his  crimes,  and  it 
shall  be  well  with  you,  people  of  the  Otomie.  Hide  them  or 
refuse  to  deliver  them,  and  the  fate  of  the  City  of  Pines  shall 
be  as  the  fate  of  Tenoctitlan,  queen  of  the  valley.  Choose  then 
between  my  love  and  my  wrath,  people  of  the  Otomie.  If  you 
obey,  the  past  shall  be  forgiven  and  my  yoke  will  be  light  upon 
you  ;  if  you  refuse,  your  city  shall  be  stamped  flat  and  your  very 
name  wiped  out  of  the  records  of  the  world." 

*  Say,  messengers  of  Malinche,  are  not  these  the  words  of 
Malinche  ? ' 

1  They  are  his  very  words,  Maxtla,'  said  the  spokesman  of 
the  embassy. 

Now  again  there  was  a  tumult  among  the  people,  and 
voices  cried,  *  Give  them  up,  give  them  to  Malinche  as  a  peaco 
offering.'  Otomie  stood  forward  to  speak  and  it  died  away, 
for  all  desired  to  hear  her  words.  Then  she  spoke  : 

'  It  seems,  people  of  the  Otomie,  that  I  am  on  my  trial 
before  my  own  vassals,  and  my  husband  with  me.  Well,  I 
will  plead  our  cause  as  well  as  a  woman  may,  and  having  the 
power,  you  shall  judge  between  us  and  Maxtla  and  his  allies, 
Malinche  and  the  Tlascalans.  What  is  our  offence  ?  It  is 
that  we  came  hither  by  the  command  of  Cuitlahua  to  seek 
your  aid  in  his  war  with  the  Teules.  What  did  I  tell  you 
then  ?  I  told  you  that  if  the  people  of  Anahuac  would  not 
stand  together  against  the  white  men,  they  must  be  broken 
one  by  one  like  the  sticks  of  an  unbound  faggot,  and  cast  into 
the  flames.  Did  I  speak  lies  ?  Nay,  I  spoke  truth,  for  through 
the  treason  of  her  tribes,  and  chiefly  through  the  treason  of 
the  Tlascalans,  Anahuac  is  fallen,  and  Tenoctitlan  is  a  ruin 
sown  with  dead  like  a  field  with  corn.' 

'  It  is  true,'  cried  a  voice. 

'Yes,  people  of  the  Otomie,  it  is  true,  but  I  say  that  had 


252  MONTEZUMA''S  DAUGHTER 

all  the  warriors  of  the  nations  of  Anahuac  played  the  part 
that  your  sons  played,  the  tale  had  run  otherwise.  They  are 
dead,  and  because  of  their  death  you  would  deliver  us  to  our 
foes  and  yours,  but  I  for  one  do  not  mourn  them,  though 
among  their  number  are  many  of  my  kin.  Nay,  be  not  wroth, 
but  listen.  It  is  better  that  they  should  lie  dead  in  honour, 
having  earned  for  themselves  a  wreath  of  fame,  and  an 
immortal  dwelling  in  the  Houses  of  the  Sun,  than  that  they 
should  live  to  be  slaves,  which  it  seems  is  your  desire, 
people  of  the  Otomie.  There  is  no  false  word  in  what  I 
said  to  you.  Now  the  sticks  that  Malinche  has  used  to  beat 
out  the  brains  of  Guatemoc  shall  be  broken  and  burnt  to  cook 
the  pot  of  the  Teules.  Already  these  false  children  are  his 
slaves.  Have  you  not  heard  his  command,  that  the  tribes  his 
allies  shall  labour  in  the  quarries  and  the  streets  till  the  glori- 
ous city  which  he  has  burned  rises  afresh  upon  the  face  of  the 
waters  ?  Will  you  not  hasten  to  take  your  share  in  the  work, 
people  of  the  Otomie,  the  work  that  knows  no  rest  and  no 
reward  except  the  lash  of  the  overseer  and  the  curse  of  the 
Teule  ?  Surely  you  will  hasten,  people  of  the  mountains ! 
Your  hands  are  shaped  to  the  spade  and  the  trowel,  not  tc 
the  bow  and  the  spear,  and  it  will  be  sweeter  to  toil  to  do  the 
will  and  swell  the  wealth  of  Malinche  in  the  sun  of  the  vallej 
or  the  shadow  of  the  mine,  than  to  bide  here  free  upon  youi 
hills  where  as  yet  no  foe  has  set  his  foot !  ' 

Again  she  paused,  and  a  murmur  of  doubt  and  unresi 
went  through  the  thousands  who  listened.  Maxtla  steppec 
forward  and  would  have  spoken,  but  the  people  shouted  hin 
down,  crying  :  '  Otomie,  Otomie  !  Let  us  hear  the  words  o :: 
Otomie.' 

*  I  thank  you,  my  people,'  she  said,  '  for  I  have  still  much 
to  tell  you.  Our  crime  is  then,  that  we  drew  an  army  after  us 
to  fight  against  the  Teules.  And  how  did  we  draw  this  army  '? 
Did  I  command  you  to  muster  your  array  ?  Nay,  I  set  out  my 
case  and  I  said  "  Now  choose."  You  chose,  and  of  your  own 
free  will  you  despatched  those  glorious  companies  that  now  are 
dead.  My  crime  is  therefore  that  you  chose  wrongly  as  you 
say,  hut  as  I  still  hold,  most  rightly,  and  because  of  this 
crime  I  and  my  husband  are  to  be  given  as  a  peace  offering 
to  the  Teules.  Listen  :  let  me  tell  you  something  of  those 
wars  in  which  we  have  fought  before  you  give  us  to  the 
Teules  and  our  mouths  are  silent  for  ever.  Where  shall  I 
begin  ?  I  know  not.  Stay,  I  bore  a  child — had  he  lived  he 
would  have  been  your  prince  to-day.  That  child  I  saw  starve 


OTOMIE  PLEADS    WITH  HER  PEOPLE        253 

to  death  before  my  eyes,  inch  by  inch  and  day  by  day  I  saw 
him  starve.  But  it  is  nothing  ;  who  am  I  that  I  should  com- 
plain because  I  have  lost  my  son,  when  so  many  of  your  sons 
are  dead  and  their  blood  is  required  at  my  hands  ?  Listen 
again  \ '  and  she  went  on  to  tell  in  burning  words  of  the 
horrors  of  the  siege,  of  the  cruelties  of  the  Spaniards,  and  of 
the  bravery  of  the  men  of  the  Otomie  whom  I  had  com- 
manded. For  a  full  hour  she  spoke  thus,  while  all  that  vast 
audience  hung  upon  her  words.  Also  she  told  of  the  part  that 
I  played  in  the  struggle,  and  of  the  deeds  which  I  had  done,  and 
now  and  again  some  soldier  in  the  crowd  who  served  under  me, 
and  who  had  escaped  the  famine  and  the  massacre,  cried  out : 

'  It  is  true ;  we  saw  it  with  our  eyes.' 

'  And  so,'  she  said,  '  at  last  it  was  finished,  at  last 
Tenoctitlan  was  a  ruin  and  my  cousin  and  my  king,  the 
glorious  Guatemoc,  lay  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  Malinche, 
and  with  him  my  husband  Teule,  my  sister,  I  myself,  and  many 
another.  Malinche  swore  that  he  would  treat  Guatemoc  and 
his  following  with  all  honour.  Do  you  know  how  he  treated 
him  ?  Within  a  few  days  Guatemoc  our  king  was  seated  in 
the  chair  of  torment,  while  slaves  burned  him  with  hot  irons 
to  cause  him  to  declare  the  hiding  place  of  the  treasure  of 
Montezuma  !  Ay,  you  may  well  cry  "  Shame  upon  him,"  you 
shall  cry  it  yet  more  loudly  before  I  have  done,  for  know  that 
Guatemoc  did  not  suffer  alone,  one  lies  there  who  suffered 
with  him  and  spoke  no  word,  and  I  also,  your  princess,  was 
doomed  to  torment.  We  escaped  when  death  was  at  our 
door,  for  I  told  my  husband  that  the  people  of  the  Otomie 
had  true  hearts,  and  would  shelter  us  in  our  sorrow,  and  for 
his  sake  I,  Otomie,  disguised  myself  in  the  robe  of  a  wanton 
and  fled  with  him  hither.  Could  I  have  known  what  I  should 
live  to  see  and  hear,  could  I  have  dreamed  that  you  would 
receive  us  thus,  I  had  died  a  hundred  deaths  before  I  came  to 
stand  and  plead  for  pity  at  your  hands. 

*  Oh  !  my  people,  my  people,  I  beseech  of  you,  make  no 
terms  with  the  false  Teule,  but  remain  bold  and  free.  Your 
necks  are  not  fitted  to  the  yoke  of  the  slave,  your  sons  and 
daughters  are  of  too  high  a  blood  to  serve  the  foreigner  in  his 
needs  and  pleasures.  Defy  Malinche.  Some  of  our  race  are 
dead,  but  many  thousands  remain.  Here  in  your  mountain 
nest  you  can  beat  back  every  Teule  in  Anahuac,  as  in  bygone 
years  the  false  Tlascalans  beat  back  the  Aztecs.  Then  the 
Tlascalans  were  free,  now  they  are  a  race  of  serfs.  Say,  will 
you  share  their  serfdom  ?  My  people,  my  people,  think  not 


254  MONTEZUi\lA''S  DAUGHTER 

that  I  plead  for  myself,  or  even  for  the  husband  who  is  more 
dear  to  me  than  aught  save  honour.  Do  you  indeed  dream 
that  we  will  suffer  you  to  hand  us  living  to  these  dogs  of  Tlas- 
calans,  whom  Malinche  insults  you  by  sending  as  his  mes- 
sengers ?  Look,'  and  she  walked  to  where  the  spear  that  had 
been  hurled  at  her  lay  upon  the  pavement  and  lifted  it,  '  here 
is  a  means  of  death  that  some  friend  has  sent  us,  and  if  you 
will  not  listen  to  my  pleading  you  shall  see  it  used  before  your 
eyes.  Then,  if  you  will,  you  may  send  our  bodies  to  Malinche 
as  a  peace  offering.  But  for  your  own  sakes  I  plead  with  you. 
Defy  Malinche,  and  if  you  must  die  at  last,  die  as  free  men 
and  not  as  the  slaves  of  the  Teule.  Behold  now  his  tender 
mercies,  and  see  the  lot  that  shall  be  yours  if  you  take  another 
counsel,  the  counsel  of  Maxtla  ;  '  and  corning  to  the  litter  on 
which  I  lay,  swiftly  Otomie  rent  my  robes  from  me  leaving  me 
almost  naked  to  the  waist,  and  unwound  the  bandages  from 
my  wounded  limb,  then  lifted  me  up  so  that  I  rested  upon 
my  sound  foot. 

'  Look !  '  she  cried  in  a  piercing  voice,  and  pointing  tc 
the  scars  and  unhealed  wounds  upon  my  face  and  leg ;  '  loot 
on  the  work  of  the  Teule  and  the  Tlascalan,  see  how  the  foe 
is  dealt  with  who  surrenders  to  them.  Yield  if  you  will,  deserl 
us  if  you  will,  but  I  say  that  then  your  own  bodies  shall  be 
marked  in  a  like  fashion,  till  not  an  ounce  of  gold  is  lefl 
that  can  minister  to  the  greed  of  the  Teule,  or  a  man  or  a 
maiden  who  can  labour  to  satisfy  his  indolence. 

Then  she  ceased,  and  letting  me  sink  gently  to  the  ground 
for  I  could  not  stand  alone,  she  stood  over  me,  the  spear  in  hei 
hand,  as  though  waiting  to  plunge  it  to  my  heart  should  th( 
people  still  demand  our  surrender  to  the  messengers  of  Cortes 

For  one  instant  there  was  silence,  then  of  a  sudden  the 
clamour  and  the  tumult  broke  out  again  ten  times  mor^ 
furiously  than  at  first.  But  it  was  no  longer  aimed  at  us. 
Otomie  had  conquered.  Her  noble  words,  her  beauty,  the  tale 
of  our  sorrows  and  the  sight  of  my  torments,  had  done  their 
work,  and  the  heart  of  the  people  was  filled  with  fury  against 
the  Teules  who  had  destroyed  their  army  and  the  Tlascalan u 
that  had  aided  them.  Never  did  the  wit  and  eloquence  of 
a  woman  cause  a  swifter  change.  They  screamed  and  tore 
their  robes  and  shook  their  weapons  in  the  air.  Maxtla  strove 
to  speak,  but  they  pulled  him  down  and  presently  he  wa» 
flying  for  his  life.  Then  they  turned  upon  the  Tlascalari 
envoys  and  beat  them  with  sticks,  crying : 


OTOMIE  PLEADS    WITH  HER  PEOPLE       255 

1  This  is  our  answer  to  Malinche.  Run,  you  dogs,  and 
take  it ! '  till  they  were  driven  from  the  town. 

Now  at  length  the  turmoil  ceased,  and  some  of  the  great 
chiefs  came  forward  anil,  kissing  the  hand  of  Otomie,  said : 

'  Princess,  we  your  children  will  guard  you  to  the  death, 
for  you  have  put  another  heart  into  us.  You  are  right ;  it  is 
better  to  die  free  than  to  live  as  slaves.' 

'  See,  my  husband,'  said  Otomie,  '  I  was  not  mistaken 
when  I  told  you  that  my  people  were  loyal  and  true.  But 
now  we  must  make  ready  for  war,  for  they  have  gone  too  far 
to  turn  back,  and  when  this  tidings  comes  to  the  ears  of 
Malinche  he  will  be  like  a  puma  robbed  of  her  young.  Now, 
let  us  rest,  I  am  very  weary.' 

*  Otomie,'  I  answered,  '  there  has  lived  no  greater  woman 
than  you  upon  this  earth.' 

'  I  cannot  tell,  husband,'  she  said,  smiling  ;  '  if  I  have  won 
your  praise  and  safety,  it  is  enough  for  me.' 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

THE    END   OF    GUATEMOC 

Now  for  a  while  we  dwelt  in  quiet  at  the  City  of  Pines,  and 
by  slow  degrees  and  with  much  suffering  I  recovered  from  the 
wounds  that  the  cruel  hand  of  de  Garcia  had  inflicted  upon 
me.  But  we  knew  that  this  peace  could  not  last,  and  the 
people  of  the  Otomie  knew  it  also,  for  had  they  not  scourged 
the  envoys  of  Malinche  out  of  the  gates  of  their  city  ?  Many 
of  them  were  now  sorry  that  this  had  been  done,  but  it  was 
done,  and  they  must  reap  as  they  had  sown. 

So  they  made  ready  for  war,  and  Otomie  was  the  president 
of  their  councils,  in  which  I  shared.  At  length  came  news 
that  a  force  of  fifty  Spaniards  with  five  thousand  Tlascalan 
allies  were  advancing  on  the  city  to  destroy  us.  Then  I  took 
command  of  the  tribesmen  of  the  Otomie — there  were  ten  thou- 
sand or  more  of  them,  all  well-armed  after  their  own  fashion — 
and  advanced  out  of  the  city  till  I  was  two-thirds  of  the  way 
down  the  gorge  which  leads  to  it.  But  I  did  not  bring  all  my 
army  down  this  gorge,  since  there  was  no  room  for  them  to 
fight  there,  and  I  had  another  plan.  I  sent  some  seven  thou- 
sand men  round  the  mountains,  of  which  the  secret  paths 
were  well  known  to  them,  bidding  them  climb  to  the  crest  of 


256  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

the  precipices  that  bordered  either  side  of  the  gorge,  and  there, 
at  certain  places  where  the  cliff  is  sheer  and  more  than  one 
thousand  feet  in  height,  to  make  a  great  provision  of  stones. 

The  rest  of  my  army,  excepting  five  hundred  whom  I  kept 
with,  me,  I  armed  with  bows  and  throwing  spears,  and  stationed 
them  in  ambush  in  convenient  places  where  the  sides  of  tlje 
cliff  were  broken,  and  in  such  fashion  that  rocks  from  above 
could  not  be  rolled  on  them.  Then  I  sent  trusty  men  as  spies 
to  warn  me  of  the  approach  of  the  Spaniards,  and  others 
whose  mission  it  was  to  offer  themselves  to  them  as  guides. 

Now  I  thought  my  plan  good,  and  everything  looked  well, 
and  yet  it  missed  failure  but  by  a  very  little.  For  Maxtla, 
our  enemy  and  the  friend  of  the  Spaniards,  was  in  niy  camp— 
indeed,  I  had  brought  him  with  me  that  I  might  watch  him — 
and  he  had  not  been  idle. 

For  when  the  Spaniards  were  half  a  day's  march  from 
the  mouth  of  the  defile,  one  of  those  men  whom  I  had  told 
off  to  watch  their  advance,  came  to  me  and  made  it  known 
that  Maxtla  had  bribed  him  to  go  to  the  leader  of  the 
Spaniards  and  disclose  to  him  the  plan  of  the  ambuscade. 
This  man  had  taken  the  bribe  and  started  on  his  errand  oi 
treachery,  but  his  heart  failed  him  and,  returning,  he  told  me 
all.  Then  I  caused  Maxtla  to  be  seized,  and  before  nightfall 
he  had  paid  the  price  of  his  wickedness. 

On  the  morning  after  his  death  the  Spanish  array  entered 
the  pass.  Half-way  down  it  I  met  them  with  my  five  hundred 
men  and  engaged  them,  but  suffered  them  to  drive  us  back 
with  some  loss.  As  they  followed  they  grew  bolder  and  we 
fled  faster,  till  at  length  we  flew  down  the  defile  followed  bj 
the  Spanish  horse.  Now,  some  three  furlongs  from  its  mouth 
that  leads  to  the  City  of  Pines,  this  pass  turns  and  narrows 
and  here  the  cliffs  are  so  sheer  and  high  that  a  twilight  reigns 
at  the  foot  of  them. 

Down  the  narrow  way  we  ran  in  seeming  rout,  and  after 
us  came  the  Spaniards  shouting  on  their  saints  and  flashed 
with  victory.  But  scarcely  had  we  turned  the  corner  wheri 
they  sang  another  song,  for  those  who  were  watching  fj 
thousand  feet  above  us  gave  the  signal,  and  down  from  on 
high  came  a  rain  of  stones  and  boulders  that  darkened  tho 
air  and  crashed  among  them,  crushing  many  of  them.  On 
they  struggled,  seeing  a  wider  way  in  front  where  tho 
cliffs  sloped,  and  perhaps  half  of  them  won  through.  Bub 
here  the  archers  were  waiting,  and  now,  in  the  place  of 
stones,  arrows  were  hailed  upon  them,  till  at  length,  utterly 


THE  END   OF  GUATEMOC  257 

bewildered  and  unable  to  strike  a  blow  in  their  own  defence, 
they  turned  to  fly  towards  the  open  country.  This  finished 
the  fight,  for  now  we  assailed  their  flank,  and  once  more 
the  rocks  thundered  on  them  from  above,  and  the  end  of 
it  was  that  those  who  remained  of  the  Spaniards  and  their 
Indian  allies  were  driven  in  utter  rout  back  to  the  plain  beyond 
the  Pass  of  Pines. 

After  this  battle  the  Spaniards  troubled  us  no  more  for 
many  years  except  by  threats,  and  my  name  grew  great 
among  the  people  of  the  Otomie. 

One  Spaniard  I  rescued  from  death  and  afterwards  I  gave 
him  his  liberty.  From  him  I  inquired  of  the  doings  of 
de  Garcia  or  Sarceda,  and  learned  that  he  was  still  in  the 
service  of  Cortes,  but  that  Marina  had  been  true  to  her  word, 
and  had  brought  disgrace  upon  him  because  he  had  threatened 
to  put  Otomie  to  the  torture.  Moreover  Cortes  was  angry 
with  him  because  of  our  escape,  the  burden  of  which  Marina 
had  laid  upon  his  shoulders,  hinting  that  he  had  taken  a 
bribe  to  suffer  us  to  pass  the  gate. 

Of  the  fourteen  years  of  my  life  which  followed  the  defeat  of 
the  Spaniards  I  can  speak  briefly,  for  compared  to  the  time 
that  had  gone  before  they  were  years  of  quiet.  In  them 
children  were  born  to  me  and  Otomie,  three  sons,  and  these 
children  were  my  great  joy,  for  I  loved  them  dearly  and  they 
loved  me.  Indeed,  except  for  the  strain  of  their  mother's 
blood,  they  were  English  boys  and  not  Indian,  for  I  christened 
them  all,  and  taught  them  our  English  tongue  and  faith,  and 
their  mien  and  eyes  were  more  English  than  Indian,  though 
their  skins  were  dark.  But  I  had  no  luck  with  these  dear 
children  of  mine,  any  more  than  I  have  had  with  that  which 
Lily  bore  me.  Two  of  them  died — one  from  a  fever  that  all 
my  skill  would  not  avail  to  cure,  and  another  by  a  fall  from 
a  lofty  cedar  tree,  which  he  climbed  searching  for  a  kite's  nest. 
Thus  of  the  three  of  them — since  I  do  not  speak  now  of  that 
infant,  my  firstborn,  who  perished  in  the  siege— there  remained 
to  me  only  the  eldest  and  best  beloved  of  whom  I  must  tell 
hereafter. 

For  the  rest,  jointly  with  Otomie  I  was  named  cacique 
of  the  City  of  Pines  at  a  great  council  that  was  held  after 
I  had  destroyed  the  Spaniards  and  their  allies,  and  as  such 
we  had  wide  though  not  absolute  power.  By  the  exercise 
of  this  power,  in  the  end  I  succeeded  in  abolishing  the 
horrible  rites  of  human  sacrifice,  though,  because  of  this, 

8 


258  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

a  large  number  of  the  outlying  tribes  fell  away  from  our 
rule,  and  the  enmity  of  the  priests  was  excited  against  me. 
The  last  sacrifice,  except  one  only  the  most  terrible  of  them 
all,  of  which  I  will  tell  afterwards,  that  was  ever  celebrated 
on  the  teocalli  in  front  of  the  palace,  took  place  after  the 
defeat  of  the  Spaniards  in  the  pass. 

When  I  had  dwelt  three  years  in  the  City  of  Pines  and 
two  sons  had  been  born  to  me  there,  secret  messengers  arrived 
that  were  sent  by  the  friends  of  Guatemoc,  who  had  survived 
the  torture  and  was  still  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  Cortes. 
From  these  messengers  we  learned  that  Cortes  was  about  to 
start  upon  an  expedition  to  the  Gulf  of  Honduras,  across  the 
country  that  is  now  known  as  Yucatan,  taking  Guatemoc  and 
other  Aztec  nobles  with  him  for  he  feared  to  leave  them 
behind.  We  heard  also  that  there  was  much  murmuring 
among  the  conquered  tribes  of  Anahuac  because  of  the 
cruelties  and  extortions  of  the  Spaniards,  and  many  thought 
that  the  hour  had  come  when  a  rising  against  them  might 
be  carried  to  a  successful  issue. 

This  was  the  prayer  of  those  who  sent  the  envoys,  that  I 
should  raise  a  force  of  Otomies  and  travel  with  it  across  the 
country  to  Yucatan,  and  there  with  others  who  would  be 
gathered,  wait  a  favourable  opportunity  to  throw  myself  upon 
the  Spaniards  when  they  were  entangled  in  the  forests  and 
swamps,  putting  them  to  the  sword  and  releasing  Guatemoc. 
Such  was  the  first  purpose  of  the  plot,  though  it  had  many 
others  of  which  it  is  useless  to  speak,  seeing  that  they  came 
to  nothing. 

When  the  message  had  been  delivered  I  shook  my  head 
sadly,  for  I  could  see  no  hope  in  such  a  scheme,  but  the  chief 
of  the  messengers  rose  and  led  me  aside,  saying  that  he  had 
a  word  for  my  ear. 

'  Guatemoc  sends  these  words,'  he  said  ;  *  I  hear  that  you, 
my  brother,  are  free  and  safe  with  my  cousin  Otomie  in  the 
mountains  of  the  Otomie.  I,  alas !  linger  in  the  prisons  oi 
the  Teules  like  a  crippled  eagle  in  a  cage.  My  brother,  if  it 
is  in  your  power  to  help  me,  do  so  I  conjure  you  by  the 
memory  of  our  ancient  friendship,  and  of  all  that  we  have 
suffered  together.  Then  a  time  may  still  come  when  I  shall 
rule  again  in  Anahuac,  and  you  shall  sit  at  my  side.' 

I  heard  and  my  heart  was  stirred,  for  then,  as  to  this 
hour,  I  loved  Guatemoc  as  a  brother. 

1  Go  back,'  I  said,  '  and  find  means  to  tell  Guatemoc, 
that  if  I  can  save  him  I  will,  though  I  have  small  hopes 


THE  END   OF  GUATEMOC  259 

that  way.      Still,   let  him  look  for  me  in  the  forests  of 
Yucatan.' 

Now  when  Otomie  heard  of  this  promise  of  mine  she  was 
vexed,  for  she  said  that  it  was  foolish  and  would  only  end  in 
my  losing  my  life.  Still,  having  given  it  she  held  with  me 
that  it  must  be  carried  out,  and  the  end  of  it  was  that  I  raised 
five  hundred  men,  and  with  them  set  out  upon  my  long  and 
toilsome  march,  which  I  timed  so  as  to  meet  Cortes  in  the 
passes  of  Yucatan.  At  the  last  moment  Otomie  wished  to 
accompany  me,  but  I  forbade  it,  pointing  out  that  she  could 
leave  neither  her  children  nor  her  people,  and  we  parted  with 
bitter  grief  for  the  first  time. 

Of  all  the  hardships  that  I  underwent  I  will  not  write. 
For  two  and  a  half  months  we  struggled  on  across  mountains 
and  rivers  and  through  swamps  and  forests,  till  at  last  \\v 
reached  a  mighty  deserted  city,  that  is  called  Palenque  by 
the  Indians  of  those  parts,  which  has  been  uninhabited  for 
many  generations.  This  city  is  the  most  marvellous  place 
that  I  have  seen  in  all  my  travels,  though  much  of  it  is 
hidden  in  bush,  for  wherever  the  traveller  wanders  there  he 
finds  vast  palaces  of  marble,  carven  within  and  without,  and 
sculptured  teocallis  and  the  huge  images  of  grinning  gods. 
Often  have  I  wondered  what  nation  was  strong  enough  to 
build  such  a  capital,  and  who  were  the  kings  that  dwelt  in  it. 
But  these  are  secrets  belonging  to  the  past,  and  they  cannot 
be  answered  till  some  learned  man  has  found  the  key  to  the 
stone  symbols  and  writings  with  which  the  walls  of  the 
buildings  are  covered  over. 

In  this  city  I  hid  with  my  men,  though  it  was  no  easy  task 
to  persuade  them  to  take  up  their  habitation  among  so  many 
ghosts  of  the  departed,  not  to  speak  of  the  noisome  fevers  im<l 
the  wild  beasts  and  snakes  that  haunted  it,  for  I  had  informa- 
tion that  the  Spaniards  would  pass  through  the  swamp  that 
lies  between  the  ruins  and  the  river,  and  there  I  hoped  to  am- 
bush them.  But  on  the  eighth  day  of  my  hiding  I  learned 
from  spies  that  Cortes  had  crossed  the  great  river  higher  up, 
and  was  cutting  his  way  through  the  forest,  for  of  swamps  he 
had  passed  more  than  enough.  So  I  hurried  also  to  the  river 
intending  to  cross  it.  But  all  that  day  and  all  that  night  it 
rained  as  it  can  rain  nowhere  else  in  the  world  that  I  have 
seen,  till  at  last  we  waded  on  our  road  knee  deep  in  water,  and 
when  we  came  to  the  ford  of  the  river  it  was  to  find  a  wide 
roaring  flood,  that  no  man  could  pass  in  anything  less  frail 
than  a  Yarmouth  herring  boat.  So  there  on  the  bank  we  must 

s2 


26o  MONTEZUMA*S  DAUGHTER 

stay  in  misery,  suffering  many  ills  from  fever,  lack  of  food, 
and  plenitude  of  water,  till  at  length  the  stream  ran  down. 

Three  days  and  nights  we  waited  there,  and  on  the  fourth 
morning  I  made  shift  to  cross,  losing  four  men  by  drowning 
in  the  passage.  Once  over,  I  hid  my  force  in  the  bush  and 
reeds,  and  crept  forward  with  six  men  only,  to  see  if  I  could 
discover  anything  of  the  whereabouts  of  the  Spaniards. 
Within  an  hour  I  struck  the  trail  that  they  had  cut  through 
the  forest,  and  followed  it  cautiously.  Presently  we  came  to  a 
spot  where  the  forest  was  thin,  and  here  Cortes  had  camped, 
for  there  was  heat  left  in  the  ashes  of  his  fires,  and  among 
them  lay  the  body  of  an  Indian  who  had  died  from  sickness. 
Not  fifty  yards  from  this  camp  stood  a  huge  ceiba,  a  tree  that 
has  a  habit  of  growth  not  unlike  that  of  our  English  oak, 
though  it  is  soft  wooded  and  white  barked,  and  will  increase 
more  in  bulk  in  twenty  years  than  any  oak  may  in  a  hundred. 
Indeed  I  never  yet  saw  an  oak  tree  so  large  as  this  ceiba  of 
which  I  write,  either  in  girth  or  in  its  spread  of  top,  unless  it 
be  the  Kirby  oak  or  the  tree  that  is  called  the  '  King  of 
Scoto  '  which  grows  at  Broome,  that  is  the  next  parish  to 
this  of  Ditchingham  in  Norfolk.  On  this  ceiba  tree  many 
zaphilotes  or  vultures  were  perched,  and  as  we  crept  towards 
it  I  saw  what  it  was  they  came  to  seek,  for  from  the  lowest 
branches  of  the  ceiba  three  corpses  swung  in  the  breeze. 
'  Here  are  the  Spaniard's  footprints,'  I  said.  '  Let  us  look  at 
them,'  and  we  passed  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  tree. 

As  I  came,  a  zaphilote  alighted  on  the  head  of  the  body 
that  hung  nearest  to  me,  and  its  weight,  or  the  wafting  of  the 
fowl's  wing,  caused  the  dead  man  to  turn  round  so  that  he 
came  face  to  face  with  me.  I  looked,  started  back,  then  looked 
again  and  sank  to  the  earth  groaning.  For  here  was  he  whom 
I  had  come  to  seek  and  save,  my  friend,  my  brother,  Guatemoc 
the  last  emperor  of  Anahuac.  Here  he  hung  in  the  dim  and 
desolate  forest,  dead  by  the  death  of  a  thief,  while  the  vulture 
shrieked  upon  his  head.  I  sat  bewildered  and  horror-stricken, 
and  as  I  sat  I  remembered  the  proud  sign  of  Aztec  royalty, 
a  bird  of  prey  clasping  an  adder  in  its  claw.  There  before  me 
was  the  last  of  the  stock,  and  behold  !  a  bird  of  prey  gripped 
his  hair  in  its  talons,  a  fitting  emblem  indeed  of  the  fall  of 
An.ahuac  and  the  kings  of  Anahuac. 

I  sprang  to  my  feet  with  an  oath,  and  lifting  the  bow  1 
held  I  sent  an  arrow  through  the  vulture  and  it  fell  to  the  earth 
fluttering  and  screaming.  Then  I  bade  those  with  me  to  cut 
down  the  corpses  of  Guatemoc  and  of  the  prince  of  Tacuba  anc. 


THE  END   OF  GUATEMOC  261 

another  noble  who  hung  with  him,  and  hollow  a  deep  grave 
beneath  the  tree.  There  I  laid  them,  and  there  I  left  them 
to  sleep  for  ever  in  its  melancholy  shadow,  and  thus  for  the 
last  time  I  saw  Guatemoc  my  brother,  whom  I  came  from  far 
to  save  and  found  made  ready  for  burial  by  the  Spaniard. 

Then  I  turned  my  face  homewards,  for  now  Anahuac  had 
no  king  to  rescue,  but  it  chanced  tha-t  before  I  went  I  caught 
a  Tlascalan  who  could  speak  Spanish,  and  who  had  deserted 
from  the  army  of  Cortes  because  of  the  hardships  that  he 
suffered  in  their  toilsome  march.  This  man  was  present  at 
the  murder  of  Guatemoc  and  his  companions,  and  heard 
the  Emperor's  last  words.  It  seems  that  some  knave  had 
betrayed  to  Cortes  that  an  attempt  would  be  made  to  rescue 
the  prince,  and  that  thereon  Cortes  commanded  that  he  should 
be  hung.  It  seems  also  that  Guatemoc  met  his  death  as  he 
had  met  the  misfortunes  of  his  life,  proudly  and  without  fear. 
These  were  his  last  words  :  '  I  did  ill,  Malinche,  when  I  held 
my  hand  from  taking  my  own  life  before  I  surrendered  myself 
to  you.  Then  my  heart  told  me  that  all  your  promises  were 
false,  and  it  has  not  lied  to  me.  I  welcome  my  death,  for  I 
have  lived  to  know  shame  and  defeat  and  torture,  and  to  see 
my  people  the  slaves  of  the  Teule,  but  still  I  say  that  God 
will  reward  you  for  this  deed.' 

Then  they  murdered  him  in  the  midst  of  a  great  silence. 

And  so  farewell  to  Guatemoc,  the  most  brave,  the  best  and 
the  noblest  Indian  that  ever  breathed,  and  may  the  shadow  of 
his  tormentings  and  shameful  end  lie  deep  upon  the  fame  of 
Cortes  for  so  long  as  the  names  of  both  of  them  are  remem- 
bered among  men ! 

For  two  more  months  I  journeyed  homeward  and  at  length 
I  reached  the  City  of  Pines,  well  though  wearied,  and  having 
lost  only  forty  men  by  various  misadventures  of  travel,  to 
find  Otomie  in  good  health,  and  overjoyed  to  know  me  safe 
whom  she  thought  never  to  see  again.  But  when  I  told  her 
what  was  the  end  of  her  cousin  Guatemoc  ehe  grieved  bitterly, 
both  for  his  sake  and  because  the  last  hope  of  the  Aztecs  was 
gone,  and  she  would  not  be  comforted  for  many  days. 


262  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

CHAPTEE    XXXIII 

ISABELLA     DE     SIGUENZA     IS     AVENGED 

FOB  many  years  after  the  death  of  Guatemoc  I  lived  with 
Otomie  at  peace  in  the  City  of  Pines.  Our  country  was  poor 
and  rugged,  and  though  we  defied  the  Spaniards  and  paid 
them  no  tribute,  now  that  Cortes  had  gone  back  to  Spain, 
they,  had  no  heart  to  attempt  our  conquest.  Save  some  few 
tribes  that  lived  in  difficult  places  like  ourselves,  all  Anahuac 
was  in  their  power,  and  there  was  little  to  gain  except  hard 
blows  in  the  bringing  of  a  remnant  of  the  people  of  the  Otomie 
beneath  their  yoke,  so  they  let  us  be  till  a  more  convenient 
season.  I  say  of  a  remnant  of  the  Otomie,  for  as  time  went 
on  many  clans  submitted  to  the  Spaniards,  till  at  length 
we  ruled  over  the  City  of  Pines  alone  and  some  leagues  of 
territory  about  it.  Indeed  it  was  only  love  for  Otomie  and 
respect  for  the  shadow  of  her  ancient  race  and  name,  together 
with  some  reverence  for  me  as  one  of  the  unconquerable  white 
men,  and  for  my  skill  as  a  general,  that  kept  our  following 
together. 

And  now  it  may  be  asked  was  I  happy  in  those  years  ?  I 
had  much  to  make  me  happy — no  man  could  have  been 
blessed  with  a  wife  more  beautiful  and  loving,  nor  one  who 
had  exampled  her  affection  by  more  signal  deeds  of  sacrifice. 
This  woman  of  her  own  free  will  had  lain  by  my  side  on  the 
stone  of  slaughter  ;  overriding  the  instincts  of  her  sex  she  had 
not  shrunk  from  dipping  her  hands  in  blood  to  secure  my  safety, 
her  wit  had  rescued  me  in  many  a  trouble,  her  love  had  con- 
soled me  in  many  a  sorrow  :  surely  therefore  if  gratitude  can 
conquer  the  heart  of  man,  mine  should  have  been  at  her  feet 
for  ever  and  a  day,  and  so  indeed  it  was,  and  in  a  sense  is  still. 
But  can  gratitude,  can  love  itself,  or  any  passion  that  rules  our 
souls,  make  a  man  forget  the  house  where  he  was  born  ?  Could 
I,  an  Indian  chief  struggling  with  a  fallen  people  against  an 
inevitable  destiny,  forget  my  youth  and  all  its  hopes  and  fears, 
could  I  forget  the  valley  of  the  Waveney  and  that  Flower  who 
dwelt  therein,  and  forsworn  though  I  might  be,  could  I  forget 
the  oath  that  I  once  had  sworn  ?  Chance  had  been  against 
me,  circumstances  overpowered  me,  and  I  think  that  there 
are  few  who,  could  they  read  this  story,  would  not  find  in  it 
excuse  for  all  that  I  had  done.  Certainly  there  are  very  few  who, 


ISABELLA  DE  SIGUENZA  is  AVENGED     263 

standing  where  I  stood,  surrounded  as  I  was  by  doubts,  diffi- 
culties, and  dangers,  would  not  have  acted  as  I  did. 

And  yet  memory  would  rise  up  against  me,  and  time  upon 
time  I  would  lie  awake  at  night,  even  by  the  side  of  Otomie, 
and  remember  and  repent,  if  a  man  may  repent  of  that  over 
which  he  has  no  control.  For  I  was  a  stranger  in  a  strange 
land,  and  though  my  home  was  there  and  my  children  were 
about  me,  the  longing  for  my  other  home  was  yet  with  me, 
and  I  could  not  put  away  the  memory  of  that  Lily  whom  I 
had  lost.  Her  ring  was  still  upon  my  hand,  but  nothing  else 
of  her  remained  to  me.  I  did  not  know  if  she  were  married 
or  single,  living  or  dead.  The  gulf  between  us  widened  with 
the  widening  years,  but  still  the  thought  of  her  went  with  me 
like  my  shadow  ;  it  shone  across  the  stormy  love  of  Otomie,  I 
remembered  it  even  in  my  children's  kiss.  And  worst  of  all  I 
despised  myself  for  these  regrets.  Nay,  if  the  worst  can  have 
a  worse,  there  was  one  here,  for  though  she  never  spoke  of  it, 
I  feared  that  Otomie  had  read  my  mind. 

Heart  to  Ji<'<irt, 
TJiouyh  far  apart , 

so  ran  the  writing  upon  Lily's  betrothal  ring,  and  so  it  was 
with  me.  Far  apart  we  were  indeed,  so  far  that  no  bridge  that  I 
might  imagine  could  join  that  distance,  and  yet  I  could  not  say 
that  we  had  ceased  from  being  '  heart  to  heart.'  Her  heart 
might  throb  no  more,  but  mine  beat  still  toward  it.  Across 
the  land,  across  the  sea,  across  the  gulf  of  death — if  she  were 
dead— still  in  secret  must  I  desire  the  love  that  I  had  forsworn. 
And  so  the  years  rolled  on,  bringing  little  of  change  with 
them,  till  I  grew  sure  that  here  in  this  far  place  I  should  live 
and  die.  But  that  was  not  to  be  my  fate. 

If  any  should  read  this,  the  story  of  my  early  life,  he  will 
remember  that  the  tale  of  the  death  of  a  certain  Isabella 
de  Siguenza  is  pieced  into  its  motley.  He  will  remember  how 
this  Isabella,  in  the  last  moments  of  her  life,  called  down 
a  curse  upon  that  holy  father  who  added  outrage  and  insult 
to  her  torment,  praying  that  he  might  also  die  by  the  hands 
of  fanatics  and  in  a  worse  fashion.  If  my  memory  does 
not  play  me  false,  I  have  said  that  this  indeed  came  to 
pass,  and  very  strangely.  For  after  the  conquest  of  Anahuac 
by  Cortes,  among  others  this  same  fiery  priest  came  from 
Spain  to  turn  the  Indians  to  the  love  of  God  by  torment  and 
by  sword.  Indeed,  of  all  of  those  who  entered  on  this  mission 


264  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

of  peace,  he  was  the  most  zealous.  The  Indian  pabas 
wrought  cruelties  enough  when,  tearing  out  the  victim's  heart, 
they  offered  it  like  incense  to  Huitzel  or  to  Quetzal,  but  they 
at  least  dismissed  his  soul  to  the  Mansions  of  the  Sun. 
With  the  Christian  priests  the  thumb-screw  and  the  stake 
took  the  place  of  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  but  the  soul  which 
they  delivered  from  its  earthly  bondage  they  consigned  to  the 
House  of  Hell. 

Of  these  priests  a  certain  Father  Pedro  was  the  boldest 
and  the  most  cruel.  To  and  fro  he  passed,  marking  his  path 
with  the  corpses  of  idolaters,  until  he  earned  the  name  of 
the  '  Christian  Devil.'  At  length  he  ventured  too  far  in  his 
holy  fervour,  and  was  seized  by  a  clan  of  the  Otomie  that 
had  broken  from  our  rule  upon  this  very  question  of  human 
sacrifice,  but  which  was  not  yet  subjugated  by  the  Spaniards. 
One  day,  it  was  when  we  had  ruled  for  some  fourteen  years 
in  the  City  of  Pines,  it  came  to  my  knowledge  that  the  pabas 
of  this  clan  had  captured  a  Christian  priest,  and  designed  to 
offer  him  to  the  god  Tezcat. 

Attended  by  a  small  guard  only,  I  passed  rapidly  across 
the  mountains,  purposing  to  visit  the  cacique  of  this  clan, 
with  whom,  although  he  had  cast  off  his  allegiance  to  us,  I 
still  kept  up  a  show  of  friendship,  and  if  I  could,  to  persuade 
him  to  release  the  priest.  But  swiftly  as  I  travelled  the  ven- 
geance of  the  pabas  had  been  more  swift,  and  I  arrived  at  the 
village  only  to  find  the  '  Christian  Devil '  in  the  act  of  being 
led  to  sacrifice  before  the  image  of  a  hideous  idol  that  was  set 
upon  a  stake  and  surrounded  with  piles  of  skulls.  Naked  to 
the  waist,  his  hands  bound  behind  him,  his  grizzled  locks 
hanging  about  his  breast,  his  keen  eyes  fixed  upon  the  faces 
of  his  heathen  foes  in  menace  rather  than  in  supplication, 
his  thin  lips  muttering  prayers,  Father  Pedro  passed  on  to 
the  place  of  his  doom,  now  and  again  shaking  his  head 
fiercely  to  free  himself  from  the  torment  of  the  insects  which 
buzzed  about  it. 

I  looked  upon  him  and  wondered.  I  looked  again  and 
knew.  Suddenly  there  rose  before  my  mind  a  vision  of  that 
gloomy  vault  in  Seville,  of  a  woman,  young  and  lovely,  draped 
in  cerements,  and  of  a  thin-faced  black-robed  friar  who  smote 
her  upon  the  lips  with  his  ivory  crucifix  and  cursed  her  for  a 
blaspheming  heretic.  There  before  me  was  the  man.  Isabella 
de  Siguenza  had  prayed  that  a  fate  like  to  her  own  fate  should 
befall  him,  and  it  was  upon  him  now.  Nor  indeed,  remember- 
ing all  that  had  been,  was  I  minded  to  avert  it,  even  if  it  had 


ISABELLA   DE  SIGUENZA   IS  AVENGED      265 

been  in  my  power  to  do  so.   I  stood  by  and  let  the  victim  pass, 
but  as  he  passed  I  spoke  to  him  in  Spanish,  saying : 

'  Remember  that  which  it  may  well  be  you  have  forgotten, 
holy  father,  remember  now  the  dying  prayer  of  Isabella  de 
Siguenza  whom  many  years  ago  you  did  to  death  in  Seville.' 

The  man  heard  me ;  he  turned  livid  beneath  his  bronzed 
skin  and  staggered  until  I  thought  that  he  would  have  fallen. 
He  stared  upon  me,  with  terror  in  his  eye,  to  see  as  he  believed 
a  common  sight  enough,  that  of  an  Indian  chief  rejoicing  at 
the  death  of  one  of  his  oppressors. 

'  What  devil  are  you,'  he  said  hoarsely,  '  sent  from  hell  to 
torment  me  at  the  last  ?  ' 

1  Remember  the  dying  prayer  of  Isabella  de  Siguenza,  whom 
you  struck  and  cursed,'  I  answered  mocking.  *  Seek  not  to  know 
whence  I  am,  but  remember  this  only,  now  and  for  ever.' 

For  a  moment  he  steed  still,  heedless  of  the  urgings.  of 
his  tormentors.  Then  his  courage  came  to  him  again,  and  he 
cried  with  a  great  voice  :  *  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan,  what 
have  I  to  fear  from  thee  ?  I  remember  that  dead  sinner  well — 
may  her  soul  have  peace — and  her  curse  has  fallen  upon  me. 
I  rejoice  that  it  should  be  so,  for  on  the  further  side  of  yonder 
stone  the  gates  of  heaven  open  to  my  sight.  Get  thee  behind 
me,  Satan,  what  have  I  to  fear  from  thee  ?  ' 

Crying  thus  he  staggered  forward  saying,  *  0  God,  into  Thy 
hand  I  commend  my  spirit !  '  May  his  soul  have  peace  also, 
for  if  he  was  cruel,  at  least  he  was  brave,  and  did  not  shrink 
beneath  those  torments  which  he  had  inflicted  on  many  others. 

Now  this  was  a  little  matter,  but  its  results  were  large. 
Had  I  saved  Father  Pedro  from  the  hands  of  the  pabcLs  of  the 
Otomie,  it  is  likely  enough  that  I  should  not  to-day  be  writing 
this  history  here  in  the  valley  of  the  Waveney.  I  do  not  know 
if  I  could  have  saved  him,  I  only  know  that  I  did  not  try, 
and  that  because  of  his  death  great  sorrows  came  upon  me. 
Whether  I  was  right  or  wrong,  who  can  say  ?  Those  who 
judge  my  story  may  think  that  in  this  as  in  other  matters  I 
was  wrong  ;  had  they  seen  Isabella  de  Siguenza  die  within 
her  living  tomb,  certainly  they  would  hold  that  I  was  right. 
But  for  good  or  ill,  matters  came  about  as  I  have  written. 

And  it  came  about  also,  that  the  new  viceroy  sent  from 
Spain  was  stirred  to  anger  at  the  murder  of  the  friar  by  the 
rebellious  and  heathen  people  of  the  Otomie,  and  set  himself 
to  take  vengeance  on  the  tribe  that  wrought  the  deed. 

Soon  tidings  reached  me  that  a  great  force  of  Tlascalan 


266  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

and  other  Indians  were  being  collected  to  put  an  end  to  us, 
root  and  branch,  and  that  with  them  marched  more  than  a 
hundred  Spaniards,  the  expedition  being  under  the  command 
of  none  other  than  the  Captain  Bernal  Diaz,  that  same  soldier 
whom  I  had  spared  in  the  slaughter  of  the  noche  triste,  and 
whose  sword  to  this  day  hung  at  my  side. 

Now  we  must  needs  prepare  our  defence,  for  our  only  hope 
lay  in  boldness.  Once  before  the  Spaniards  had  attacked  us 
with  thousands  of  their  allies,  and  of  their  number  but  few 
had  lived  to  look  again  on  the  camp  of  Cortes.  What  had 
been  done  could  be  done  a  second  time— so  said  Otomie  in 
the  pride  of  her  unconquerable  heart.  But  alas  !  in  fourteen 
years  things  had  changed  much  with  us.  Fourteen  years  ago 
we  held  sway  over  a  great  district  of  mountains,  whose  rude 
clans  would  send  up  their  warriors  in  hundreds  at  our  call. 
Now  these  clans  had  broken  from  our  yoke,  which  was 
acknowledged  by  the  people  of  the  City  of  Pines  alone  and 
those  of  some  adjacent  villages.  When  the  Spaniards  came 
down  on  me  the  first  time,  I  was  able  to  muster  an  army 
of  ten  thousand  soldiers  to  oppose  them,  now  with  much  toil 
I  could  collect  no  more  than  between  two  and  three  thousand 
men,  and  of  these  some  slipped  away  as  the  hour  of  danger 
drew  nigh. 

Still  I  must  put  a  bold  face  on  my  necessities,  and  make 
what  play  I  might  with  such  forces  as  lay  at  my  command, 
although  in  my  heart  I  feared  much  for  the  issue.  But  of  my 
fears  I  said  nothing  to  Otomie,  and  if  she  felt  any  she,  on  her 
part,  buried  them  in  her  breast,  In  truth  I  do  believe  her 
faith  in  me  was  so  great,  that  she  thought  my  single  wit  enough 
to  over-match  all  the  armies  of  the  Spaniards. 

Now  at  length  the  enemy  drew  near,  and  I  set  my  battle 
as  I  had  done  fourteen  years  before,  advancing  down  the  pass 
by  which  alone  they  could  approach  us  with  a  small  portion 
of  my  force,  and  stationing  the  remainder  in  two  equal 
companies  upon  either  brow  of  the  beetling  cliffs  that  over- 
hung the  road,  having  command  to  overwhelm  the  Spaniards 
with  rocks,  hurled  upon  them  from  above,  so  soon  as  I  should 
give  the  signal  by  flying  before  them  down  the  pass.  Other 
measures  I  took  also,  for  seeing  that  do  what  I  would  it  well 
might  happen  that  we  should  be  driven  back  upon  the  city,  I 
caused  its  walls  aiad  gates  to  be  set  in  order,  and  garrisoned  them. 
As  a  last  resource  too,  I  stored  the  lofty  summit  of  the  teocalli, 
which  now  that  sacrifices  were  no  longer  offered  there  was 
used  as  an  arsenal  for  the  material  of  war,  with  water  and 


ISABELLA   DE  SIGUENZA   IS  AVENGED       267 

provisions,  and  fortified  its  sides  by  walls  studded  with 
volcanic  glass  and  by  other  devices,  till  it  seemed  well  nigh 
impossible  that  any  should  be  able  to  force  them  while  a 
score  of  men  still  lived  to  offer  a  defence. 

It  was  on  one  night  in  the  early  summer,  having  bid 
farewell  to  Otomie  and  taking  my  son  with  me,  for  he  was 
now  of  an  ag;e  when,  according  to  the  Indian  customs,  lads 
are  brought  face  to  face  with  the  dangers  of  battle,  that  I 
despatched  the  appointed  companies  to  their  stations  on  the 
brow  of  the  precipice,  and  sallied  into  the  darksome  mouth 
of  the  pass  with  the  few  hundred  men  who  were  left  to  me. 
I  knew  by  my  spies  that  the  Spaniards  who  were  encamped 
on  the  further  side  would  attempt  its  passage  an  hour  before 
the  daylight,  trusting  to  finding  me  asleep.  And  sure  enough, 
on,  the  following  morning,  so  early  that  the  first  rays  of  the 
sun  had  not  yet  stained  the  lofty  snows  of  the  volcan  Xaca 
that  towered  behind  us,  a  distant  murmuring  which  echoed 
through  the  silence  of  the  night  told  me  that  the  enemy 
had  begun  his  march.  1  moved  down  the  pass  to  meet  him 
easily  enough  ,•  there  was  no  stone  in  it  that  was  not  known 
to  me  and  my  men.  But  with  the  Spaniards  it  was  other- 
wise, for  many  of  them  were  mounted,  and  moreover  they 
dragged  with  them  two  carronades.  Time  upon  time  these 
heavy  guns  remained  fast  in  the  boulder-strewn  roadway,  for 
in  the  darkness  the  slaves  who  drew  them  could  find  no 
places  for  the  wheels  to  run  on,  till  in  the  end  the  captains 
of  the  army,  unwilling  to  risk  a  fight  at  so  great  a  disadvan- 
tage, ordered  them  to  halt  until  the  day  broke. 

At  length  the  dawn  came,  and  the  light  fell  dimly  down 
the  depths  of  the  vast  gulf,  revealing  the  long  ranks  of  the 
Spaniards  clad  in  their  bright  armour,  and  the  yet  more 
brilliant  thousands  of  their  native  allies,  gorgeous  in  their 
painted  helms  and  their  glittering  coats  of  feathers.  They 
saw  us  also,  and  mocking  at  our  poor  array,  their  column 
twisted  forward  like  some  huge  snake  in  the  crack  of  a  rock, 
till  they  came  to  within  a  hundred  paces  of  us.  Then  the 
Spaniards  raised  their  battle  cry  of  Saint  Peter,  and  lance  at 
rest,  they  charged  us  with  their  horse.  We  met  them  with  a 
rain  of  arrows  that  checked  them  a  little,  but  not  for  long.  Soon 
they  were  among  us,  driving  us  back  at  the  point  of  their 
lances,  and  slaying  many,  for  our  Indian  weapons  could 
work  little  harm  to  men  and  horses  clad  in  armour.  There- 
fore we  must  fly,  and  indeed,  flight  was  my  plan,  for  by  it  I 
hoped  to  lead  the  foe  to  that  part  of  the  defile  where  the  road 


268  MOXTEZUMA*S  DAUGHTER 

was  narrow  and  the  cliffs  sheer,  and  they  might  be  crushed  by 
the  stones  which  should  hail  on  them  from  above.  All  went 
well;  we  fled,  the  Spaniards  followed  flushed  with  victory, 
till  they  were  fairly  in  the  trap.  Now  a  single  boulder  came 
rushing  from  on  high,  and  falling  on  a  horse,  killed  him, 
then  rebounding,  carried  dismay  and  wounds  to  those  behind. 
Another  followed,  and  yet  another,  and  I  grew  glad  at  heart, 
for  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  danger  was  over,  and  that  for  the 
second  time  my  strategy  had  succeeded. 

But  suddenly  from  above  there  came  a  sound  other  than 
that  of  the  rushing  rocks,  the  sound  of  men  joining  in  battle, 
that  grew  and  grew  till  the  air  was  full  of  its  tumult,  then 
something  whirled  down  from  on  high.  I  looked  ;  it  was  no 
stone,  but  a  man,  one  of  my  own  men.  Indeed  he  was  but  as 
the  first  rain-drop  of  a  shower. 

Alas !  I  saw  the  truth ;  I  had  been  outwitted.  The 
Spaniards,  old  in  war,  could  not  be  caught  twice  by  such  a 
trick ;  they  advanced  down  the  pass  with  the  carronades  indeed 
because  they  must,  but  first  they  sent  great  bodies  of  men  to 
climb  the  mountain  under  shelter  of  the  night,  by  secret 
paths  which  had  been  discovered  to  them,  and  there  on  its 
summit  to  deal  with  those  who  would  stay  their  passage  by 
hurling  rocks  upon  them.  And  in  truth  they  dealt  with 
them  but  too  well,  for  my  men  of  the  Otomie,  lying  on  the 
verge  of  the  cliff  among  the  scrub  of  aloes  and  other  prickly 
plants  that  grew  there,  watching  the  advance  of  the  foe 
beneath,  and  never  for  one  moment  dreaming  that  foes  might 
be  upon  their  flank,  were  utterly  surprised.  Scarcely  had  they 
time  to  seize  their  weapons,  which  were  laid  at  their  sides 
that  they  might  have  the  greater  freedom  in  the  rolling  of 
heavy  masses  of  rock,  when  the  enemy,  who  outnumbered 
them  by  far,  were  upon  them  with  a  yell.  Then  came  a  fight, 
short  but  decisive. 

Too  late  I  saw  it  all,  and  cursed  the  folly  that  had  not 
provided  against  such  chances,  for,  indeed,  I  never  thought  it 
possible  that  the  forces  of  the  Spaniards  could  find  the  secret 
trails  upon  the  further  side  of  the  mountain,  forgetting  that 
treason  makes  most  things  possible.  • 


THE  SIEGE  OF   THE   CITY  OF  PINES         269 
CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE    SIEGE    OF    THE    CITY   OF    PINES 

THE  battle  was  already  lost.  From  a  thousand  feet  above  us 
swelled  the  shouts  of  victory.  The  battle  was  lost,  and  yet  I 
must  fight  on.  As  swiftly  as  I  could  I  withdrew  those  who 
were  left  to  me  to  a  certain  angle  in  the  path,  where  a 
score  of  desperate  men  might,  for  a  while,  hold  back  the 
advance  of  an  army.  Here  1  called  for  some  to  stand  at  my 
side,  and  many  answered  to  my  call.  Out  of  them  I  chose 
fifty  men  or  more,  bidding  the  rest  run  hard  for  the  City  of 
Pines,  there  to  warn  those  who  were  left  in  garrison  that  the 
hour  of  danger  was  upon  them,  and,  should  I  fall,  to  conjure 
Otomie  my  wife  to  make  the. best  resistance  in  her  power, 
till,  if  it  were  possible,  she  could  wring  from  the  Spaniards 
a  promise  of  safety  for  herself,  her  child,  and  her  people. 
Meanwhile  I  would  hold  the  pass  so  that  time  might  be  given 
to  shut  the  gates  and  man  the  walls.  With  the  main  body 
of  those  who  were  left  to  me  I  sent  back  my  son,  though  he 
prayed  hard  to  be  allowed  to  stay  with  me.  But,  seeing 
nothing  before  me  except  death,  I  refused  him. 

Presently  all  were  gone,  and  fearing  a  snare  the  Spaniards 
came  slowly  and  cautiously  round  the  angle  of  the  rock,  and 
seeing  so  few  men  mustered  to  meet  them  halted,  for  now 
they  were  certain  that  we  had  set  a  trap  for  them,  since  they  did 
not  think  it  possible  that  such  a  little  band  would  venture  to 
oppose  their  array.  Here  the  ground  lay  so  that  only  a  few 
of  them  could  come  against  us  at  one  time,  nor  could  they 
bring  their  heavy  pieces  to  bear  on  us,  and  even  their  arque- 
busses  helped  them  but  little.  Also  the  roughness  of  the  road 
forced  them  to  dismount  from  their  horses,  so  that  if  they 
would  attack  at  all,  it  must  be  on  foot.  This  in  the  end  they 
chose  to  do.  Many  fell  upon  either  side,  though  I  myself 
received  no  wound,  but  in  the  end  they  drove  us  back.  Inch 
by  inch  they  drove  us  back,  or  rather  those  who  were  left  of 
us,  at  the  point  of  their  long  lances,  till  at  length  they  forced 
us  into  the  mouth  of  the  pass,  that  is  some  five  furlongs 
distant  from  what  was  once  the  wall  of  the  City  of  Pines. 

To  fight  further  was  of  no  avail,  here  we  must  choose  be- 
tween death  and  flight,  and  as  may  be  guessed,  for  wives'  and 
children's  aiko  if  not  for  our  own,  we  chose  to  fly.  Across  the 
plain  we  fled  like  deer,  and  after  us  came  the  Spaniards  and 


270  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

their  allies  like  hounds.  Happily  the  ground  was  rough  with 
stones  so  that  their  horses  could  not  gallop  freely,  and  thus  it 
happened  that  some  of  us,  perhaps  twenty,  gained  the  gates 
in  safety.  Of  my  army  not  more  than  five  hundred  in  all  lived 
to  enter  them  again,  and  perchance  there  were  as  many  left 
within  the  city. 

The  heavy  gates  swung  to,  and  scarcely  were  they  barred 
with  the  massive  beams  of  oak,  when  the  foremost  of  the 
Spaniards  rode  up  to  them.  My  bow  was  still  in  my  hand 
and  there  was  one  arrow  left  in  my  quiver.  I  set  it  on  the 
string,  and  drawing  the  bow  with  my  full  strength,  I  loosed 
the  shaft  through  the  bars  of  the  gate  at  a  young  and 
gallant  looking  cavalier  who  rode  the  first  of  all.  It  struct 
him  truly  between  the  joint  of  his  helm  and  neck  piece,  and 
stretching  his  arms  out  wide  he  fell  backward  over  the  cruppei 
of  his  horse,  to  move  no  more.  Then  they  withdrew,  but  pre- 
sently one  of  their  number  c*ame  forward  bearing  a  flag  o1 
truce.  He  was  a  knightly  looking  man,  clad  in  rich  armour, 
and  watching  him,  it  seemed  to  me  that  there  was  something 
in  his  bearing,  and  in  the  careless  grace  with  which  he  sat  his 
horse,  that  was  familiar  to  me.  Eeining  up  in  front  of  the 
gates  he  raised  his  visor  and  began  to  speak, 

I  knew  him  at  once  ;  before  me  was  de  Garcia,  my  ancieni 
enemy,  of  whom  I  had  neither  heard  nor  seen  anything  foi 
hard  upon  twelve  years.  Time  had  touched  him  indeed,  which 
was  scarcely  to  be  wondered  at,  for  now  he  was  a  man  of  sixty 
or  more.  His  peaked  chestnut-coloured  beard  was  streaked 
with  grey,  his  cheeks  were  hollow,  and  at  that  distance  his- 
lips  seemed  like  two  thin  red  lines,  but  the  eyes  were  a^ 
they  had  always  been,  bright  and  piercing,  and  the  same 
cold  smile  played  about  his  mouth.  Without  a  doubt  it  wa^ 
de  Garcia,  who  now,  as  at  every  crisis  of  my  life,  appeared  tc 
shape  my  fortunes  to  some  evil  end,  and  I  felt  as  I  looked 
upon  him  that  the  last  and  greatest  struggle  between  us  was 
at  hand,  and  that  before  many  days  were  sped,  the  ancient  and 
accumulated  hate  of  one  or  of  both  of  us  would  be  buried  foi 
ever  in  the  silence  of  death.  How  ill  had  fate  dealt  with  me 
now  as  always.  But  a  few  minutes  before,  when  I  set  thai, 
arrow  on  the  string,  I  had  wavered  for  a  moment,  doubting 
whether  to  loose  it  at  the  young  cavalier  who  lay  dead, 
or  at  the  knight  who  rode  next  to  him  ;  and  see !  I  hao. 
slain  one  with  whom  I  had  no  quarrel  and  left  my  enemy 
unharmed. 

'  Ho  there  ! '  cried  de  Garcia  in  Spanish.     '  I  desire  tc 


He  raised  his  visor,  and  began  to  speak 


THE  SIEGE   OF  THE   CITY  OF  PIAES         271 

speak  with  the  leader  of  the  rebel  Otomie  on  behalf  of  the 
Captain  Bernal  Diaz,  who  commands  this  army.' 

Now  I  mounted  on  the  wall  by  means  of  a  ladder  which 
was  at  hand,  and  answered,  '  Speak  on,  I  am  the  man  you 
seek.' 

'  You  know  Spanish  well,  friend,'  said  de  Garcia,  starting 
and  looking  at  me  keenly  beneath  his  bent  brows.  '  Say  now, 
where  did  you  learn  it  ?  And  what  is  your  name  and  lineage  ? ' 

'  I  learned  it,  Juan  de  Garcia,  from  a  certain  Donna  Luisa, 
whom  you  knew  in  your  days  of  youth.  And  my  name  is 
Thomas  Wingfield.' 

Now  de  Garcia  reeled. in  his  saddle  and  swore  a  great  oath. 

*  Mother  of  God  !  '  he  said,  *  years  ago  I  was  told  that  you 
had  taken  up  your  abode  among  some  savage  tribe,  but  since 
then  I  have  been  far,  to  Spain  and  back  indeed,  and  I  deemed 
that  you  were  dead,  Thomas  Wingfield.  My  luck  is  good  in 
truth,  for  it  has  been  one  of  the  great  sorrows  of  my  life  that 
you  have  so  often  escaped  me,  renegade.  Be  sure  that  this 
time  there  shall  be  no  escape.' 

'  I  know  well  that  there  will  be  no  escape  for  one  or  other 
of  us,  Juan  de  Garcia,'  I  answered.  '  Now  we  play  the  last 
round  of  the  game,  but  do  not  boast,  for  God  alone  knows  to 
whom  the  victory  shall  be  given.  You  have  prospered  long, 
but  a  day  may  be  at  hand  when  your  prosperity  shall  cease 
with  your  breath.  To  your  errand,  Juan  de  Garcia.' 

For  a  moment  he  sat  silent,  pulling  at  his  pointed  beard, 
and  watching  him  I  thought  that  T  could  see  the  shadow  of 
a  half-forgotten  fear  creep  into  his  eyes.  If  so,  it  was  soon 
gone,  for  lifting  his  head,  he  spoke  boldly  and  clearly. 

'  This  is  my  message  to  you,  Thomas  Wingfield,  and  to 
such  of  the  Otomie  dogs  with  whom  you  herd  as  we  have  left 
alive  to-day.  The  Captain  Bernal  Diaz  offers  you  terms  on 
behalf  of  his  Excellency  the  viceroy.' 

1  What  are  his  terms  ?  '  I  asked. 

'  Merciful  enough  to  such  pestilent  rebels  and  heathens,'  he 
answered  sneering.  «  Surrender  your  city  without  condition, 
and  the  viceroy,  in  his  clemency,  will  accept  the  surrender. 
Nevertheless,  lest  you  should  say  afterwards  that  faith  has 
been  broken  with  you,  be  it  known  to  you  that  you  shall  not 
go  unpunished  for  your  many  crimes.  This  is  tke  punishment 
that  shall  be  inflicted  on  you.  All  those  who  had  part  or 
parcel  in  the  devilish  murder  of  that  holy  saint  Father  Pedro, 
shall  be  burned  at  the  stake,  and  the  eyes  of  all  those  who  beheld 
it  shall  be  put  out.  Such  of  the  leaders  of  the  Otomie  as 


272  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

the  judges  may  select  shall  be  hanged  publicly,  amon 
them  yourself,  Cousin  Wingfield,  and  more  particularly  th 
woman  Otomie,  daughter  of  Montezuma  the  late  king.  Fc 
the  rest,  the  dwellers  in  the  City  of  Pines  must  surrender  thei 
wealth  into  the  treasury  of  the  viceroy,  and  they  themselves 
men,  women  and  children,  shall  be  led  from  the  city  an 
be  distributed  according  to  the  viceroy's  pleasure  upon  th 
estates  of  such  of  the  Spanish  settlers  as  he  may  select,  ther 
to  learn  the  useful  arts  of  husbandry  and  mining.  These  ar 
the  conditions  of  surrender,  and  I  am  commanded  to  say  tha 
an  hour  is  given  you  in  which  to  decide  whether  you  accep 
or  reject  them.' 

'  And  if  we  reject  them  ?  ' 

'  Then  the  Captain  Bernal  Diaz  has  orders  to  sack  an< 
destroy  this  city,  and  having  given  it  over  for  twelve  hours  t<  > 
the  mercy  of  the  Tlascalans  and  other  faithful  Indian  allies 
to  collect  those  who  may  be  left  living  within  it,  and  brinj; 
them  to  the  city  of  Mexico,  there  to  be  sold  as  slaves.' 

'Good,'   I  said;    'you    shall  have  your  answer   in   ai 
hour.' 

Now,  leaving  the  gate  guarded,  I  hurried  to  the  palace, 
sending  messengers  as  I  went  to  summon  such  of  the  counci 
of  the  city  as  remained  alive.      At  the  door  of  the  palace    . 
met  Otomie,  who  greeted  me  fondly,  for  after  hearing  of  ou.' 
disaster  she  had  hardly  looked  to  see  me  again. 

1  Come  with  me  to  the  Hall  of  Assembly,'  I  said  ;  '  thero 
I  will  speak  to  you.' 

We  went  to  the  hall,  where  the  members  of  the  council 
were  already  gathering.  So  soon  as  the  most  of  them  wen 
assembled,  there  were  but  eight  in  all,  I  repeated  to  them  the, 
words  of  de  Garcia  without  comment.  Then  Otomie  spoke, 
as  being  the  first  in  rank  she  had  a  right  to  do.  Twice 
before  I  had  heard  her  address  the  people  of  the  Otomio 
upon  these  questions  of  defence  against  the  Spaniards.  Tho 
first  time,  it  may  be  remembered,  was  when  we  came  as 
envoys  from  Cuitlahua,  Montezuma  her  father's  successor,  to 
pray  the  aid  of  the  children  of  the  mountain  against  Cortes  and 
the  Teules.  The  second  time  was  when,  some  fourteen  yearn 
ago,  we  had  returned  to  the  City  of  Pines  as  fugitives  after  the 
fall  of  Tenoctitlan,  and  the  populace,  moved  to  fury  by  the  de- 
struction of  nearly  twenty  thousand  of  their  soldiers,  would  have, 
delivered  us  as  a  peace  offering  into  the  hands  of  the  Spaniards 

On  each  of  these  occasions  Otomie  had  triumphed  by  her 
eloquence,  by  the  greatness  of  her  name  and  the  majesty  oJ: 


THE  SIEGE   OF  THE  CITY  OF  PINES        273 

her  presence.  Now  things  were  far  otherwise,  and  even  had 
she  not  scorned  to  use  them,  such  arts  would  have  availed 
us  nothing  in  this  extremity.  Now  her  great  name  was  but 
a  shadow*  one  of  many  waning  shadows  cast  by  an  empire 
whose  glory  had  gone  for  ever ;  now  she  used  no  passionate 
appeal  to  the  pride  and  traditions  of  a  doomed  race,  now  she 
was  no  longer  young  and  the  first  splendour  of  her  womanhood 
had  departed  from  her.  And  yet,  as  with  her  son  and  mine 
at  her  side,  she  rose  to  address  those  seven  councillors,  who, 
haggard  with  fear  and  hopeless  in  the  grasp  of  fate,  crouched 
in  silence  before  her,  their  faces  buried  in  their  hands, 
I  thought  that  Otomie  had  never  seemed  more  beautiful,  and 
that  her  words,  simple  as  they  were,  had  never  been,  more 
eloquent. 

'  Friends,'  she  said,  '  you  know  the  disaster  that  has  over- 
taken us.  My  husband  has  given  you  the  message  of  the 
Teules.  Our  case  is  desperate.  We  have  but  a  thousand 
men  at  most  to  defend  this  city,  the  home  of  our  fore- 
fathers, and  we  alone  of  all  the  peoples  of  Anahuac  still 
dare  to  stand  in  arms  against  the  white  men.  Years  ago  I 
said  to  you,  Choose  between  death  with  honour  and  life 
with  shame  !  To-day  again  I  say  to  you,  Choose  !  For  me 
and  mine  there  is  no  choice  left,  since  whatever  you  decide, 
death  must  be  our  portion.  But  with  you  it  is  otherwise. 
Will  you  die  fighting,  or  will  you  and  your  children  serve 
your  remaining  years  as  slaves  ?  ' 

For  a  while  the  seven  consulted  together,  then  their 
spokesman  answered. 

'  Otomie,  and  you,  Teule,  we  have  followed  your  coun- 
sels for  many  years  and  they  have  brought  us  but  little  luck. 
We  do  not  blame  you,  for  the  gods  of  Analnjac  have  deserted 
us  as  we  have  deserted  them,  and  the  gods  alone  stand 
between  men  and  their  evil  destiny.  Whatever  misfortunes 
we  may  have  borne,  you  have  shared  in  them,  and  so  it  is 
now  at  the  end.  Nor  will  we  go  back  upon  our  words  in 
this  the  last  hour  of  the  people  of  the  Otomie.  We  have 
chosen ;  we  have  lived  free  with  you,  and  still  free,  we  will 
die  with  you.  For  like  you  we  hold  that  it  is  better  for  us 
and  ours  to  perish  as  free  men  than  to  drag  out  our  days 
beneath  the  yoke  of  the  Teule.' 

4  It  is  well,'  said  Otomie  ;  '  now  nothing  remains  for  us 
except  to  seek  a  death  so  glorious  that  it  shall  be  sung  of 
in  after  days.  Husband,  you  have  heard  the  answer  of  the 
council.  Let  the  Spaniards  hear  it  also.' 

T 


274  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

So  I  went  back  to  the  wall,  a  white  flag  in  lily  hand, 
and  presently  an  envoy  advanced  from  the  Spanish  camp 
to  speak  with  me — not  de  Garcia,  but  another.  I  told  him 
in  few  words  that  those  who  remained  alive  of  the  people  ol 
the  Otomie  would  die  beneath  the  ruins  of  their  city  like  the 
children  of  Tenoctitlan  before  them,  but  that  while  they  had 
a  spear  to  throw  and  an  arm  to  throw  it,  they  would  nevei 
yield  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  Spaniard. 

The  envoy  returned   to  the  camp,  and  within  an  hou] 
the  attack  began.     Bringing  up  their  pieces  of  ordnance,  th< 
Spaniards    set  them  within    little   more   than   an    hundra 
paces  of  the  gates,  and  began  to  batter  us  with  iron  shot  a 
their  leisure,  for  our  spears  and  arrows  could  scarcely  harn 
them  at  such  a  distance.      Still  we  were  not  idle,  for  seeing 
that  the  wooden  gates  must   soon  be  down,  we  demolished 
houses  on  either  side  of   them   and   filled  up  the  roadwa;- 
with    stones    and  rubbish.     At  the  rear  of   the   heap  thu; 
formed  I  caused  a  great  trench  to  be  dug,  which  could  not  b  > 
passed  by  horsemen  and  ordnance  till  it  was  filled  in  agair . 
All  along  the  main  street  leading  to  the  great  square  of  th  3 
teocalli  I  threw  up  other  barricades,  protected  in  the  front 
and  rear  by  dykes  cut  through  the  ro'adway,  and  in   casa 
the  Spaniards  should  try  to  turn  our  flank  and  force  a  pa^  - 
sage   through  the  narrow  and    tortuous   lanes  to  the  rigl  t 
and  left,  I  also    barricaded  the  four  entrances  to  the  gre^t 
square  or  market  place. 

Till  nightfall  the  Spaniards  bombarded  the  shattered  r(  - 
mains  of  the  gates  and  the  earthworks  behind  them,  doing  n  o 
great  damage  beyond  the  killing  of  about  a  score  of  people 
by  cannon  shot  and  arquebuss  balls.  But  they  attempted  r  o 
assault  that  day.  At  length  the  darkness  fell  and  their  fire 
ceased,  but  not  so  our  labours.  Most  of  the  men  muit 
guard  the  gates  and  the  weak  spots  in  the  walls,  and  there- 
fore the  building  of  the  barricades  was  left  chiefly  to  the 
women,  working  under  my  command  and  that  of  my  cap- 
tains. Otomie  herself  took  a  share  in  the  toil,  an  example 
that  was  followed  by  every  lady  and  indeed  by  every  wom^n 
in  the  city,  and  there  were  many  of  them,  for  the  women 
outnumbered  the  men  among  the  Otomie,  and  moreover  not 
a  few  of  them  had  been  made  widows  on  that  same  day. 

It  was  a  strange  sight  to  see  them  in  the  glare  of 
hundreds  of  torches  split  from  the  resin  pine  that  gave  its 
name  to  the  city,  as  all  night  long  they  moved  to  and  fro  in 


THE  SIEGE  OF  THE  CTTY  OF  PTNES        275 

lines,  each  of  them  staggering  heneath  the  weight  of  a  basket 
of  earth  or  a  heavy  stone,  or  dug  with  wooden  spades  at 
the  hard  soil,  or  laboured  at  the  pulling  down  of  houses. 
They  never  complained,  but  worked  on  sullenly  and  de- 
spairingly ;  no  groan  or  tear  broke  from  them,  no,  not  even 
from  those  whose  husbands  and  sons  had  been  hurled  that 
morning  from  the  precipices  of  the  pass.  They  knew  that 
resistance  would  be  useless  and  that  their  doom  was  at  hand, 
but  no  cry  arose  among  them  of  surrender  to  the  Spaniards. 
Those  of  them  who  spoke  of  the  matter  at  all  said  with 
Otomie,  that  it  was  better  to  die  free  than  to  live  as  slaves, 
but  the  most  did  not  speak  ;  the  old  and  the  young,  mother, 
wife,  widow,  and  maid,  they  laboured  in  silence  and  the 
children  laboured  at  their  sides. 

Looking  at  them  it  came  into  my  mind  that  these  silent 
patient  women  were  inspired  by  some  common  and  desperate 
purpose,  that  all  knew  of,  but  which  none  of  them  chose  to 
tell. 

'Will  you  work  so  hard  for  your  masters  the  Tenl 
cried  a  man  in  bitter  mockery,  as  a  file  of  them  toiled  past 
beneath  their  loads  of  stone. 

*  Fool ! '  answered  their  leader,  a  young  and  lovely  lady  of 
rank  ;  *  do  the  dead  labour  ?  ' 

*  Nay,'  said  this  ill  jester,  *  but  such  as  you  are  too  fair 
for  the  Teules  to  kill,  and  your  years  of  slavery  will  be  many. 
Say,  how  shall  you  escape  them  ?  ' 

'  Fool ! '  answered  the  lady  again,  *  does  fire  die  from  lack 
of  fuel  only,  and  must  every  man  live  till  age  takes  him  ? 
We  shall  escape  them  thus,'  and  casting  down  the  torch  she 
carried,  she  trod  it  into  the  earth  with  her  sandal,  and  went 
on  with  her  load.  Then  I  was  sure  that  they  had  some 
purpose,  though  I  did  not  guess  how  desperate  it  was,  and 
Otomie  would  tell  me  nothing  of  this  woman's  secret. 

*  Otomie,'  I  said  to  her  that  night,  when  we  met  by  chance, 
'  I  have  ill  news  for  you.' 

'  It  must  be  bad  indeed,  husband,  to  be  so  named  in  such 
an  hour,'  she  answered. 

'  De  Garcia  is  among  our  foes.' 

'  I  knew  it,  husband. 

'  How  did  you  know  it  ?  ' 

'  By  the  hate  written  in  your  eyes,'  she  answered. 

'  It  seems  that  his  hour  of  triumph  is  at  hand,'  I  said. 

'  Nay,  beloved,  not  his  but  yours.  You  shall  triumph 
over  de  Garcia,  but  victory  will  cost  you  dear.  I  know  it  in 


576  MONTEZVMA'S  DAUGHTER 

my  heart ;  ask  me  not  how  or  why.  See,  the  Queen  puts  on 
her  crown,'  and  she  pointed  to  the  volcan  Xaca,  whose  snows 
grew  rosy  with  the  dawn,  and  you  must  go  to  the  gate,  for 
the  Spaniards  will  soon  be  stirring.' 

As  Otornie  spoke  I  heard  a  trumpet  blare  without  the 
walls.  Hurrying  to  the  gates  by  the  first  light  of  day,  I  could 
see  that  the  Spaniards  were  mustering  their  forces  for  attack. 
They  did  not  come  at  once,  however,  but  delayed  till  the  sun 
was  well  up.  Then  they  began  to  pour  a  furious  fire  upon 
our  defences,  that  reduced  the  shattered  beams  of  the  gates 
to  powder,  and  even  shook  down  the  crest  of  the  earth- 
work beyond  them.  Suddenly  the  firing  ceased  and  again 
a  trumpet  called.  Now  they  charged  us  in  column,  a  thou- 
sand or  more  Tlascalans  leading  the  van,  followed  by  the 
Spanish  force.  In  two  minutes  1,  who  awaited  them  beyond 
it  together  with  some  three  hundred  warriors  of  the  Otomie, 
saw  their  heads  appear  over  the  crest  oi  the  earthwork,  and 
the  fight  began.  Thrice  we  drove  them  back  with  our  spears 
and  arrows,  but  at  the  fourth  charge  the  wave  ol  men  swept 
over  our  defence,  and  poured  into  the  dry  ditch  beyond. 

Now  we  were  forced  to  fly  to  the  next  earthwork,  for  w< 
could  not  hope  to  fight  so  many  in  the  open  street,  whither,  sc 
soon  as  a  passage  had  been  made  for  their  horse  and  ordnance 
the  enemy  "followed  us.  Here  the  fight  was  renewed,  anc 
this^barxicade  being  very  strong,  we  held  it  for  hard  upon  two 
hours  wit'h'' much : loss  to  ourselves  and  to  the  Spanish  force. 
Again  we  1-9  treated  and  again  we  were  assailed,  and  so  th<; 
struggle  went  o-n  throughout  the  live-long  day.  Every  hour  ou  • 
numbers  grew  fewer  and  our  arms  fainter,  but  still  we  foughi 
on  desperately.  At  the  two  last  barricades,  hundreds  of  tho 
women  of  the  Otomie  fought  by  the  sides  of  their  husband  5 
and  their  brothers. 

The  last  earthwork  was  captured  by  the  Spaniards  just  a 3 
the  sun  sank,  and  under  the  shadow  of  approaching  darkness 
those  of  us  that  remained  alive  fled  to  the  refuge  which  we 
had  prepared  upon  the  teocalli,  nor  was  there  any  further 
fighting  during  that  night. 


THE  LAST  SACRIFICE  OF  THE  WOMEN      277 
CHAPTEK  XXXV 

THE    LAST    SACRIFICE    OF    THE    WOMEN    OF   THE    OTOMIE 

HERE  in  the  courtyard  of  the  teocalli,  by  the  light  of  burn- 
ing houses,  for  as  they  advanced  the  Spaniards  fired  the 
town,  we  mustered  our  array  to  find  that  there  were  left  to  us 
in  all  some  four  hundred  fighting  men,  together  with  a  crowd 
of  nearly  two  thousand  women  and  many  children.  Now 
although  this  teocalli  was  not  quite  so  lofty  as  that  of  the 
great  temple  of  Mexico,  its  sides  were  steeper  and  everywhere 
faced  with  dressed  stone,  and  the  open  space  upon  its  summit 
was  almost  as  great,  measuring  indeed  more  than  a  hundred 
paces  every  way.  This  area  was  paved  with  blocks  of  marble, 
and  in  its  centre  stood  the  temple  of  the  war- god,  where  his 
statue  still  sat,  although  no  worship  had  been  offered  to  him 
for  many  years  ;  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  the  altar  of  fire,  and  the 
storehouses  of  the  priests.  Moreover  in  front  of  the  temple,  and 
between  it  and  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  was  a  deep  cemented  hole 
the  size  of  a  large  room,  which  once  had  been  used  as  a  place 
for  the  safe  keeping  of  grain  in  times  of  famine.  This  pit  I 
had  caused  to  be  filled  with  water  borne  with  great  toil  to  the 
top  of  the  pyramid,  and  in  the  temple  itself  I  stored  a  great 
quantity  of  food,  so  that  we  had  no  cause  to  fear  present  death 
from  thirst  or  famine. 

But  now  we  were  face  to  face  with  a  new  trouble.  Large 
as  was  the  summit  of  the  pyramid,  it  would  not  give  shelter 
to  a  half  of  our  numbers,  and  if  we  desired  to  defend  it  some 
of  the  multitude  herded  round  its  base  must  seek  refuge  else- 
where. Calling  the  leaders  of  the  people  together,  I  put  the 
matter  before  them  in  few  words,  leaving  them  to  decide  what 
must  be  done.  They  in  turn  consulted  among  themselves, 
and  at  length  gave  me  this  answer  :  that  it  was  agreed  that 
all  the  wounded  and  aged  there,  together  with  most  of  the 
children,  and  with  them  any  others  who  wished  to  go,  should 
leave  the  teocalli  that  night,  to  find  their  way  out  of  the  city  if 
they  could,  or  if  not,  to  trust  to  the  mercy  of  the  Spaniards. 

I  said  that  it  was  well,  for  death  was  on  every  side,  and  it 
mattered  little  which  way  men  turned  to  meet  it.  So  they 
were  sorted  out,  fifteen  hundred  or  more  of  them,  and  at 
midnight  the  gates  of  the  courtyard  were  thrown  open,  and 
they  left.  Oh  !  it  was  dreadful  to  see  the  farewells  that  took 
place  in  that  hour.  Here  a  daughter  clung  to  the  neck  of 


278  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

her  aged  father,  here  husbands  and  wives  bade  each  other  a 
last  farewell,  here  mothers  kissed  their  little  children,  and  01 
every  side  rose  up  the  sounds  of  bitter  agony,  the  agony  o 
those  who  parted  for  ever.  I  buried  my  face  in  my  hands 
wondering  as  I  had  often  wondered  before,  how  a  God  whose 
name  is  Mercy  can  bear  to  look  upon  sights  that  break  the 
hearts  of  sinful  men  to  witness. 

Presently  I  raised  my  eyes  and  spoke  to  Otomie,  who  waf 
at  my  side,  asking  her  if  she  would  not   send  our  son 


with  the  others,  passing  him  off  as  the  child  of  common  people 

'  Nay,  husband,'  she  answered,  *  it  is  better  for  him  t( 
die  with  us,  than  to  live  as  a  slave  of  the  Spaniards.' 

At  length  it  was  over  and  the  gates  had  shut  behind  th( 
last  of  them.  Soon  we  heard  the  distant  challenge  of  th< 
Spanish  sentries  as  they  perceived  them,  and  the  sounds  o 
some  shots  followed  by  cries. 

*  Doubtless  the  Tlascalans  are  massacring  them,'  I  said. 

But  it  was  not  so.  When  a  few  had  been  killed  the  leader: 
of  the  Spaniards  found  that  they  waged  war  upon  an  unarmec  . 
mob,  made  up  for  the  most  part  of  aged  people,  women  am. 
children,  and  their  commander,  Bernal  Diaz,  a  merciful  man  i  ': 
a  rough  one,  ordered  that  the  onslaught  should  cease.  Indee(  L 
he  did  more,  for  when  all  the  able-bodied  men,  together  witl 
such  children  as  were  sufficiently  strong  to  bear  the  fatigue  ? 
of  travel,  had  been  sorted  out  to  be  sold  as  slaves,  he  sufferec  i 
the  rest  of  that  melancholy  company  to  depart  whither  the;  • 
would.  And  so  they  went,  though  what  became  of  them  ; 
do  not  know. 

That  night  we  spent  in  the  courtyard  of  the  teocalli,  bu  ; 
before  it  was  light  I  caused  the  women  and  children  who 
remained  with  us,  perhaps  some  six  hundred  in  all,  for  very 
few  of  the  former  who  were  unmarried,  or  who  being  married 
were  still  young  and  comely,  had  chosen  to  desert  our  refuge  , 
to  ascend  the  pyramid,  guessing  that  the  Spaniards  would 
attack  us  at  dawn.  I  stayed,  however,  with  the  thre'3 
hundred  fighting  men  that  were  left  to  me,  a  hundred  or  mor  3 
having  thrown  themselves  upon  the  mercy  of  the  Spaniards, 
with  the  refugees,  to  await  the  Spanish  onset  under  shelter 
of  the  walls  of  the  courtyard.  At  dawn  it  began,  and  by  mid- 
day, do  what  we  could  to  stay  it,  the  wall  was  stormed,  and 
leaving  nearly  a  hundred  dead  and  wounded  behind  me,  I  was 
driven  to  the  winding  way  that  led  to  the  summit  of  ths 
pyramid.  Here  they  assaulted  us  again,  but  the  road  was  stee;p 
and  narrowband  their  numbers  gave  them  no  great  advantag3 


THE  LAST  SACRIFICE  OF  THE  WOMEN       279 

on  it,  so  that  the  end  of  it  was  that  we  beat  them  back  with 
loss,  and  there  was  no  more  fighting  that  day. 

The  night  which  followed  we  spent  upon  the  summit  of  the 
pyramid,  and  for  my  .part  I  was  so  weary  that  after  I  had  eaten 
I  never  slept  more  soundly.  Next  morning  the  struggle  began 
anew,  and  this  time  with  better  success  to  the  Spaniards. 
Inch  by  inch  under  cover  of  the  heavy  fire  from  their  ar- 
quebusses  and  pieces,  they  forced  us  upward  and  backward. 
All  day  long  the  fight  continued  upon  the  narrow  road  that 
wound  from  stage  to  stage  of  the  pyramid.  At  length,  as  the 
sun  sank,  a  company  of  our  foes,  their  advance  guard,  with 
shouts  of  victory,  emerged  upon  the  flat  summit,  and  rushed 
towards  the  temple  in  its  centre.  All  this  while  the  women  had 
been  watching,  but  now  one  of  them  sprang  up,  crying  with  a 
loud  voice : 

'  Seize  them  ;  they  are  but  few/ 

Then  with  a  fearful  scream  of  rage,  the  mob  of  women 
cast  themselves  upon  the  weary  Spaniards  and  Tlascalans, 
bearing  them  down  by  the  weight  of  their  numbers.  Many  of 
them  were  slain  indeed,  but  in  the  end  the  women  conquered, 
ay,  and  made  their  victims  captive,  fastening  them  with  cords 
to  the  rings  of  copper  that  were  let  into  the  stones  of  the 
pavement,  to  which  in  former  days  those  doomed  to  sacrifice 
had  been  secured,  when  their  numbers  were  so  great  that  the 
priests  feared  lest  they  should  escape.  I  and  the  soldiers  with 
me  watched  this  sight  wondering,  then  I  cried  out : 

'  What !  men  of  the  Otornie,  shall  it  be  said  that  our 
women  outdid  us  in  courage?'  and  without  further  ado, 
followed  by  a  hundred  or  more  of  my  companions,  I  rushed 
desperately  down  the  steep  and  narrow  path. 

At  the  first  corner  we  met  the  main  array  of  Spaniards 
and  their  allies,  coming  up  slowly,  for  now  they  were  sure  of 
victory,  and  so  great  was  the  shock  of  our  encounter  that 
many  of  them  were  hurled  over  the  edge  of  the  path,  to  roll 
down  the  steep  sides  of  the  pyramid.  Seeing  the  fate  of  their 
comrades,  those  behind  them  halted,  then  began  to  retreat. 
Presently  the  weight  of  our  rush  struck  them  also,  and  they 
in  turn  pushed  upon  those  below,  till  at  length  panic  seized 
them,  and  with  a  great  crying  the  long  line  of  men  that  wound 
round  and  round  the  pyramid  from  its  base  almost  to  its 
summit,  sought  their  safety  in  flight.  But  some  of  them 
found  none,  for  the  rush  of  those  above  pressing  with  ever 
increasing  force  upon  their  friends  below,  drove  many  to  their 
death,  since  here  on  the  pyiarm'd  there  \\asnothingto  cling  to, 


280  MONTEZUMA*S  DAUGHTER 

and  if  once  a  man  lost  his  foothold  on  the  path,  his  fall  was 
broken  only  when  his  body  reached  the  court  beneath.  Thus 
in  fifteen  short  minutes  all  that  the  Spaniards  had  won  this 
day  was  lost  again,  for  except  the  prisoners  at  its  summit,  none 
of  them  remained  alive  upon  the  teocalli ;  indeed  so  great  a 
terror  took  them,  that  bearing  with  them  their  dead  and 
wounded,  they  retreated  under  cover  of  the  night  to  their 
camp  without  the  walls  of  the  courtyard. 

Now,  weary  but  triumphant,  we  wended  back  towards  the 
crest  of  the  pyramid,  but  as  I  turned  the  corner  of  the  second 
angle  that  was  perhaps  nearly  one  hundred  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  ground,  a  thought  struck  me  and  I  set  those  with  me 
at  a  task.  Loosening  the  blocks  of  stone  that  formed  the  edge 
of  the  roadway,  we  rolled  them  down  the  sides  of  the  pyramid, 
and  so  laboured  on  removing  layer  upon  layer  of  stones  and 
of  the  earth  beneath,  till  where  the  path  had  been,  was  nothing 
but  a  yawning  gap  thirty  feet  or  more  in  width. 

'  Now,'  I  said,  surveying  our  handiwork  by  the  light  of  the 
rising  moon,  *  that  Spaniard  who  would  win  our  nest  must 
find  wings  to  fly  with.' 

'  Ay,  Teule,'  answered  one  at  my  side, '  but  say  what  wings 
shall  we  find  ?  ' 

'  The  wings  of  Death,'  I  said  grimly,  and  went  on  my 
upward  way. 

It  was  near  midnight  when  I  reached  the  temple,  for  the 
labour  of  levelling  the  road  todk  many  hours  and  food 
had  been  sent  to  us  from  above.  As  I  drew  nigh  I  was 
amazed  to  hear  the  sound  of  solemn  chanting,  and  still  more 
was  I  amazed  when  I  saw  that  the  doors  of  the  temple  of 
Huitzel  were  open,  and  that  the  sacred  fire  which  had  not 
shone  there  for  many  years  once  more  flared  fiercely  upon  his 
altar.  I  stood  still  listening.  Did  my  ears  trick  me,  or  did 
I  hear  the  dreadful  song  of  sacrifice  ?  Nay,  again  its  wild 
refrain  rang  out  upon  the  silence  : 

To  Thee  we  sacrifice  ! 
Save  us,  O  Huitzel, 
Huitzel,  lord  god  \ 

I  rushed  forward,  and  turning  the  angle  of  the  temple  I  found 
myself  face  to  face  with  the  past,  for  there  as  in  bygone  years 
were  the  pabas  clad  in  their  black  robes,  their  long  hair 
hanging  about  their  shoulders,  the  dreadful  knife  of  glass 
fixed  in  their  girdles ;  there  to  the  right  of  the  stone  of  sacri- 
fice were  those  destined  to  the  god,  and  there  being  led  towards 


THE  LAST  SACRIFICE  OF  THE  WOMEN      281 

it  was  the  first  victim,  a  Tlascalan  prisoner,  his  limbs  held 
by  men  clad  in  the  dress  of  priests.  Near  him,  arrayed  in  the 
scarlet  robe  of  sacrifice,  stood  one  of  my  own  captains,  who  I 
remembered  had  once  served  as  a  priest  of  Tezcat  before 
idolatry  was  forbidden  in  the  City  of  Pines,  and  around  were 
a  wide  circle  of  women  that  watched,  and  from  whose  lips 
swelled  the  awful  chant. 

Now  I  understood  it  all.  In  their  last  despair,  maddened 
by  the  loss  of  fathers,  husbands,  and  children,  by  their  cruel 
fate,  and  standing  face  to  face  with  certain  death,  the  fire  of 
the  old  faith  had  burnt  up  in  their  savage  hearts.  There  was 
the  temple,  there  were  the  stone  and  implements  of  sacrifice, 
and  there  to  their  hands  were  the  victims  taken  in  war.  They 
would  glut  a  last  revenge,  they  would  sacrifice  to  their  fathers' 
gods  as  their  fathers  had  done  before  them,  and  the  victims 
should  be  taken  from  their  own  victorious  foes.  Ay,  they  must 
die,  but  at  the  least  they  would  seek  the  Mansions  of  the  Sun 
niiidc  holy  by  the  blood  of  the  accursed  Teule. 

I  have  said  that  it  was  the  women  who  sang  this  chant 
and  glared  so  fiercely  upon  the  victims,  but  I  have  not  yet 
told  all  the  horror  of  what  I  saw,  for  in  the  fore -front  of  their 
circle,  clad  in  white  robes,  the  necklet  of  great  emeralds, 
Guatemoc's  gift,  flashing  upon  her  breast,  the  plumes  of  royal 
green  set  in  her  hair,  giving  the  time  of  the  death  chant  with 
a  little  wand,  stood  Montezuma's  daughter,  Otomie  my  wife. 
Never  had  I  seen  her  look  so  beautiful  or  so  dreadful.  It  was 
not  Otomie  whom  I  saw,  for  where  was  the  tender  smile  and 
where  the  gentle  eyes  ?  Here  before  me  was  a  living  Ven- 
geance wearing  the  shape  of  woman.  In  an  instant  I  guessed 
the  truth,  though  I  did  not  know  it  all.  Otomie,  who  although 
she  was  not  of  it,  had  ever  favoured  the  Christian  faith, 
Otomie,  who  for  years  had  never  spoken  of  these  dreadful 
rites  except  with  anger,  whose  every  act  was  love  and  whose 
every  word  was  kindness,  was  still  in  her  soul  an  idolater  and 
a  savage.  She  had  hidden  this  side  of  her  heart  from  me 
well  through  all  these  years,  perchance  she  herself  had 
scarcely  known  its  secret,  for  but  twice  had  I  seen  anything 
of  the  buried  fierceness  of  her  blood.  The  first  time  was  when 
Marina  had  brought  her  a  certain  robe  in  which  she  might 
escape  from  the  camp  of  Cortes,  and  she  had  spoken  to 
Marina  of  that  robe  ;  and  the  second  when  on  this  same  day 
she  had  played  her  part  to  the  Tlascalan,  and  had  struck 
him  down  with  her  own  hand  as  he  bent  over  me. 

^11  this  and  much  more  passed  through  my  mind  in  that 


282  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

brief  moment,  while  Otomie  marked  the  time  of  the  death 
chant,  and  the  pabas  dragged  the  Tlascalan  to  his  doom. 

The  next  I  was  at  her  side. 

1  What  passes  here  ?  '  I  asked  sternly. 

Otomie  looked  on  me  with  a  cold  wonder,  and  empty  eyes 
as  though  she  did  not  know  me. 

'  Go  back,  white  man,'  she  answered  ;  *  it  is  not  lawful  for 
strangers  to  mingle  in  our  rites.' 

I  stood  bewildered,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  while  the  flame 
burned  and  the  chant  went  up  before  the  effigy  of  Huitzel,  of 
the  demon  Huitzel  awakened  after  many  years  of  sleep. 

Again  and  yet  again  the  solemn  chant  arose,  Otomie 
beating  time  with  her  little  rod  of  ebony,  and  again  and  yet 
again  the  cry  of  triumph  rose  to  the  silent  stars. 

Now  I  awoke  from  my  dream,  for  as  an  evil  dream  it 
seemed  to  me,  and  drawing  my  sword  I  rushed  towards  the 
priest  at  tho  altar  to  cut  him  down.  But  though  the  men 
stood  still  the  women  were  too  quick  for  me.  Before  I  could 
lift  the  sword,  before  I  could  even  speak  a  word,  they  had 
sprung  upon  me  like  the  jaguars  of  their  own  forests,  and  like 
jaguars  they  hissed  and  growled  into  my  ear : 

'  Get  you  gone,  Teule,'  they  said,  *  lest  we  stretch  you  on 
the  stone  with  your  brethren.'  And  still  hissing  they  pushed 
me  thence. 

I  drew  back  and  thought  for  a  while  in  the  shadow  of  the 
temple.  My  eye  fell  upon  the  long  line  of  victims  awaiting 
their  turn  of  sacrifice.  There  were  thirty  and  one  of  them 
still  alive,  and  of  these  five  were  Spaniards.  I  noted  that  the 
Spaniards  were  chained  the  last  of  all  the  line.  It  seemed 
that  the  murderers  would  keep  them  till  the  end  of  the  feast. 
indeed  I  discovered  that  they  were  to  be  offered  up  at  the  rising 
of  the  sun.  How  could  I  save  them,  I  wondered.  My  powei 
was  gone.  The  women  could  not  be  moved  from  their  worl: 
of  vengeance  ;  they  were  mad  with  their  sufferings.  As  well 
might  a  man  try  to  snatch  her  prey  from  a  puma  robbed  o : 
her  whelps,  as  to  turn  them  from  their  purpose.  With  th< 
men  it  was  otherwise,  however.  Some  of  them  mingled  in 
the  orgie  indeed,  but  more  stood  aloof  watching  with  a  fearful 
joy  the  spectacle  in  which  they  did  not  share.  Near  me  was 
a  man,  a  noble  of  the  Otomie,  of  something  more  than  my 
own  age.  He  had  always  been  my  friend,  and  after  me  h< 
commanded  the  warriors  of  the  tribe.  I  went  to  him  and 
said,  '  Friend,  for  the  sake  of  the  honour  of  your  people,  help 
me  to  end  this,' 


THE  LAST  SACRIFICE  OP  THE  WOMEN      283 

1 1  cannot,  Teule,'  he  answered,  '  and  beware  how  you 
meddle  in  the  play,  for  none  will  stand  by  you.  Now  the 
women  have  power,  and  you  see  they  use  it.  They  are  about 
to  die,  but  before  they  die  they  will  do  as  their  fathers  did,  for 
their  strait  is  sore,  and  though  they  have  been  put  aside,  tho 
old  customs  are  not  forgotten.' 

*  At  the  least  can  we  not  save  these  Teules  ? '  I  answered. 

*  Why  should  you  wish  to  save  the  Teules  ?     Will  they 
save  us  some  few  days  hence,  when  we  are  in  their  power  ? ' 

'Perhaps  not,'  1  said,  '  but  if  we  must  die,  let  us  die 
clean  from  this  shame.' 

'  What  then  do  you  wish  me  to  do,  Teule  ?  ' 

4  This  :  I  would  have  you  find  some  three  or  four  men  who 
are  not  fallen  into  this  madness,  and  with  them  aid  me  to 
loose  the  Teules,  for  we  cannot  save  the  others.  If  this  may 
be  done,  surely  we  can  lower  them  with  ropes  from  that  point 
where  the  road  is  broken  away,  down  to  the  path  beneath,  and 
thus  they  may  escape  to  their  own  people.' 

'  I  will  try,'  he  answered,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  '  not 
from  any  tenderness  towards  the  accursed  Teules,  whom  I 
could  well  bear  to  see  stretched  upon  the  stone,  but  because  it 
is  your  wish,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  friendship  between  us.' 

Then  lie  went,  and  presently  I  saw  se\eral  men  place 
themselves,  as  though  by  chance,  between  the  spot  where  the 
last  of  the  line  of  Indian  prisoners,  and  the  first  of  the 
Spaniards  were  made  fast,  in  such  a  fashion  as  to  hide  them 
from  the  sight  of  the  maddened  women,  engrossed  as  they 
were  in  their  orgies. 

Now  I  crept  up  to  the  Spaniards.  They  were  squatted 
upon  the  ground,  bound  by  their  hands  and  feet  to  the 
copper  rings  in  the  pavement.  There  they  sat  silently  await- 
ing the  dreadful  doom,  their  faces  grey  with  terror,  and 
their  eyes  starting  from  their  sockets. 

'  Hist !  '  I  whispered  in  Spanish  into  the  ear  of  the  first,  an 
old  man  whom  I  knew  as  one  who  had  taken  part  in  the  wars 
of  Cortes.  '  Would  you  be  saved  ?  ' 

He  looked  up  quickly,  and  said  in  a  hoarse  voice : 

*  Who  are  you  that  talk  of  saving  us  ?    Who  can  save  us 
from  these  she  devils  ?  ' 

'  I  am  Teule,  a  man  of  white  blood  and  a  Christian,  and 
alas  that  I  must  say  it,  the  captain  of  this  savage  people. 
With  the  aid  of  some  few  men  who  are  faithful  to  me,  I  pur- 
pose to  cut  your  bonds,  and  afterwards  you  shall  see.  Know, 
Spaniard,  that  I  do  this  at  great  risk,  for  if  we  are  caught,  it 


284  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

is  a  chance  but  that  I  myself  shall  have  to  suffer  those  things 
from  which  I  hope  to  rescue  you.' 

'Be  assured,  Teule,'  answered  the  Spaniard,  'that  if  we 
should  get  safe  away,  we  shall  not  forget  this  service.  Save 
our  lives  now,  and  the  time  may  come  when  we  shall  pay 
you  back  with  yours.  But  even  if  we  are  loosed,  how  can 
we  cross  the  open  space  in  this  moonlight  and  escape  the 
eyes  of  those  furies  ?  ' 

1  We  must  trust  to  chance  for  that,'  I  answered,  and  as  I 
spoke,  fortune  helped  us  strangely,  for  by  now  the  Spaniards 
in  their  camp  below  had  perceived  what  was  going  forward  on 
the  crest  of  the  teocalli.  A  yell  of  horror  rose  from  them  and 
instantly  they  opened  fire  upon  us  with  their  pieces  and 
arquebusses,  though,  because  of  the  shape  of  the  pyramid  and 
of  their  position  beneath  it,  the  storm  of  shot  swept  over  us, 
doing  us  little  or  no  hurt.  Also  a  great  company  of  them 
poured  across  the  courtyard,  hoping  to  storm  the  temple,  for 
they  did  not  know  that  the  road  had  been  broken  away. 

Now,  though  the  rites  of  sacrifice  never  ceased,  what  with 
the  roar  of  cannon,  the  shouts  of  rage  and  terror  from  the 
Spaniards,  the  hiss  of  musket  balls,  and  the  crackling  of 
flames  from  houses  which  they  had  fired  to  give  them  more 
light,  and  the  sound  of  chanting,  the  turmoil  and  confusion 
grew  so  great  as  to  render  the  carrying  out  of  my  purpose 
easier  than  I  had  hoped.  By  this  time  my  friend,  the  captain 
of  the  Otomie,  was  at  my  side,  and  with  him  several  men 
whom  he  could  trust.  Stooping  down,  with  a  few  swift  blows 
of  a  knife  I  cut  the  ropes  which  bound  the  Spaniards.  Ther 
we  gathered  ourselves  into  a  knot,  twelve  of  us  or  more,  anc 
in  the  centre  of  the  knot  we  set  the  five  Spaniards.  This 
done,  I  drew  my  sword  and  cried  : 

*  The  Teules  storm  the  temple !  '  which  was  true,  for 
already  their  long  line  was  rushing  up  the  winding  path. 
'  The  Teules  storm  the  temple,  I  go  to  stop  them,'  anc\ 
straightway  we  sped  across  the  open  space. 

None  saw  us,  or  if  they  saw  us,  none  hindered  us,  for  aL 
the  company  were  intent  upon  the  consummation  of  a  fresh 
sacrifice  ;  moreover,  the  tumult  was  such,  as  I  afterwards  dis- 
covered, that  we  were  scarcely  noticed.  Two  minutes  passed, 
and  our  feet  were  set  upon  the  winding  way,  and  now  I 
breathed  again,  for  we  were  beyond  the  sight  of  the  women 
On  we  rushed  swiftly  as  the  cramped  limbs  of  the  Spaniards 
would  carry  them,  till  presently  we  reached  that  angle  in  the 3 
path  where  the  breach  began.  The  attacking  Spaniards  had 


THE  LAST  SACRIFICE  OF  THE  WOMEN      285 

already  come  to  the  further  side  of  the  gap,  for  though  we  could 
not  see  them,  we  could  hear  their  cries  of  rage  and  despair  as 
they  halted  helplessly  and  understood  that  their  comrades  were 
beyond  their  aid. 

*  Now  we  are  sped,'  said  the  Spaniard  with  whom  I  had 
spoken ;  '  the  road  is  gone,  and  it  must  be  certain  death  to 
try  the  side  of  the  pyramid.' 

*  Not  so,'  I  answered ;  *  some  fifty  feet  below  the  path  still 
runs,  and  one  by  one  we  will  lower  you  to  it  with  this  rope.' 

Then  we  set  to  work.  Making  the  cord  fast  beneath  the 
anus  of  a  soldier  we  let  him  down  gently,  till  he  came  to 
the  path,  and  was  received  there  by  his  comrades  as  a  man 
returned  from  the  dead.  The  last  to  be  lowered  was  that 
Spaniard  with  whom  I  had  spoken. 

*  Farewell,'  he  said,  *  and  may  the  blessing  of  God  be  on 
you  for  this   act  of  mercy,  renegade  though  you  are.     Say, 
now,  will  you  not  come  with  me  ?    I  set  my  life  and  honour 
in  pledge  for  your  safety.    You  tell  me  that  you  are  still 
a  Christian   man.     Is  that  a  place  for  Christians  ?  '  and  ho 
pointed  upwards. 

4  No,  indeed,'  I  answered,  *  but  still  I  cannot  come,  for 
my  wife  and  son  are  there,  and  I  must  return  to  die  with 
them  if  need  be.  If  you  bear  me  any  gratitude,  strive  in 
return  to  save  their  lives,  since  for  my  own  I  care  but  little.' 

'  That  I  will,'  he  said,  and  then  we  let  him  down  among 
his  friends,  whom  he  reached  in  safety. 

Now  we  returned  to  the  temple,  giving  it  out  that  the 
Spaniards  were  in  retreat,  having  failed  to  cross  the  breach  in 
the  roadway.  Here  before  the  temple  the  orgie  still  went  on. 
But  two  Indians  remained  alive ;  and  the  priests  of  sacrifice- 
grew  weary. 

1  Where  are  the  Teules  ? '  cried  a  voice.  '  Swift !  strip  them 
for  the  altar.' 

But  the  Teules  were  gone,  nor,  search  where  they  would,, 
could  they  find  them. 

'  Their  God  has  taken  them  beneath  His  wing,'  I  said, 
speaking  from  the  shadow  and  in  a  feigned  voice.  *  Huitzel 
cannot  prevail  before  the  God  of  the  Teules.' 

Then  I  slipped  aside,  so  that  none  knew  that  it  was  I  who 
Lad  spoken,  but  the  cry  was  caught  up  and  echoed  far  and  wide. 

1  The  God  of  the  Christians  has  hidden  them  beneath  His 
wing.  Let  us  make  merry  with  those  whom  He  rejects,'  said 
the  cry,  and  the  last  of  the  captives  were  dragged  away. 

Now  I  thought  that  all  was  £ nished,  but  this  was  not  so. 


286  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

I  have  spoken  of  the  secret  purpose  which  I  read  in  the  sullen 
eyes  of  the  Indian  women  as  they  laboured  at  the  barricades, 
and  I  was  about  to  see  its  execution.  Madness  still  burned 
in  the  hearts  of  these  women  ;  they  had  accomplished  their 
sacrifice,  but  their  festival  was  still  to  come.  They  dreAv 
themselves  away  to  the  further  side  of  the  pyramid,  and, 
heedless  of  the  shots  which  now  and  again  pierced  the  breast 
of  one  of  them — for  here  they  were  exposed  to  the  Spanish 
fire — remained  a  while  in  preparation.  With  them  went  the 
priests  of  sacrifice,  but  now,  as  before,  the  rest  of  the  men 
stood  in  sullen  groups,  watching  what  befell,  but  lifting  no 
hand  or  voice  to  hinder  its  hellishness. 

One  woman  did  not  go  \vith  them,  and  that  woman  was 
Otomie  my  wife. 

She  stood  by  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  a  piteous  sight  to  see, 
for  her  frenzy  or  rather  her  madness  had  outworn  itself, 
and  she  was  as  she  had  ever  been.  There  stood  Otomie, 
gazing  with  wide  and  horror-stricken  eyes  now  at  the  tokens 
of  this  unholy  rite  and  now  at  her  own  hands — as  though  she 
thought  to  see  them  red,  and  shuddered  at  the  thought.  I 
drew  near  to  her  and  touched  her  on  the  shoulder.  She 
turned  swiftly,  gasping, 

'  Husband  !  husband  ! ' 

'  It  is  I,'  I  answered,  *  but  call  me  husband  no  more.' 

'  Oh  !  what  have  I  done  ?  '  she  wailed,  and  fell  senseless  in 
my  arms. 

And  here  I  will  add  what  at  the  time  I  knew  nothing  of, 
for  it  was  told  me  in  after  years  by  the  Kector  of  this  parish, 
a  very  learned  man,  though  one  of  narrow  mind.  Had  I 
known  it  indeed,  I  should  have  spoken  more  kindly  to  Otomie 
my  wife  even  in  that  hour,  and  thought  more  gently  of  hei 
wickedness.  It  seems,  so  said  my  friend  the  Rector,  that  from 
the  most  ancient  times,  those  women  who  have  bent  the  knee 
to  demon  gods,  such  as  were  the  gods  of  Anahuac,  are  subject 
at  any  time  to  become  possessed  by  them,  even  after  they 
have  abandoned  their  worship,  and  to  be  driven  in  their  frenzy 
to  the  working  of  the  greatest  crimes.  Thus,  among  othe:.* 
instances,  he  told  me  that  a  Greek  poet  named  Theocritus  setis 
out  in  one  of  his  idyls  how  a  woman  called  Agave,  being 
engaged  in  a  secret  religious  orgie  in  honour  of  a  demon 
named  Dionysus,  perceived  her  own  son  Pentheus  watching 
the  celebration  of  the  mysteries,  and  thereon  becoming  pos- 
sessed by  the  demon,  she  fell  on  him  and  murdered  him,  being 


THE  LAST  SACRIFICE  Of  THE  WO. VEX      287 

aided  by  the  other  women.  For  this  the  poet,  who  was  also 
;i  worshipper  of  Dionysus,  gave  her  great  honour  and  not 
reproach,  seeing  that  she  did  the  deed  at  the  behest  of  this 
god,  '  a  deed  not  to  be  blamed.' 

Now  I  write  of  this  for  a  reason,  though  it  has  nothing  to 
do  with  me,  for  it  seems  that  as  Dionysus  possessed  Agave, 
driving  her  to  unnatural  murder,  so  did  Huiztel  possess 
Otomie,  and  indeed  she  said  as  much  to  me  afterwards.  For 
I  am  sure  that  if  the  devils  whom  the  Greeks  worshipped  had 
such  power,  a  still  greater  strength  was  given  to  those  of 
Anahuac,  who  among  all  fiends  were  the  first.  If  this  be  so, 
as  I  believe,  it  was  not  Otomie  that  I  saw  at  the  rites  of 
sacrifice,  but  rather  the  demon  Huitzel  whom  she  had  once 
worshipped,  and  who  had  power,  therefore,  to  enter  into  her 
body  for  awhile  in  place  of  her  own  spirit. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE    SUKKENDER 

TAKING  Otomie  in  my  arms,  I  bore  her  to, one  of  the  store- 
houses attached  to  the  temple.  Here  many  children  had  bii-ii 
placed  for  safety,  among  them  my  own  son. 

*  What  ails  our  mother,  father  ?  '  said  the  boy.      '  And 
why  did  she  shut  me  in  here  with  these  children   when  it 
seems  that  there  is  fighting  without  ?  ' 

*  Your  mother  has  fainted,'  I  answered,  '  and  doubtless  she 
placed  you  here  to  keep  you  safe.     Now  do  you  tend  her 
till  I  return.' 

*  I  will  do  so,'  answered  the  boy,  '  bub  surely  it  would  be 
letter  that  I,  who  am  almost  a  man,  should  be  without,  fight- 
ing the  Spaniards  at  your  side  rather  than  within,  nursing  sick 
women.' 

'Do  as  I  bid  you,  son,'  I  said,  '  and  I  charge  you  not  to 
leave  this  place  until  I  come  for  you  again.' 

Now  I  passed  out  of  the  storehouse,  shutting  the  door 
behind  me.  A  minute  later  I  wished  that  I  had  stayed  where 
I  was,  since  on  the  platform  my  eyes  were  greeted  by  a  sight 
more  dreadful  than  any  that  had  gone  before.  For  there,  ad- 
vancing towards  us,  were  the  women,  divided  into  four  great 
companies,  some  of  them  bearing  infants  in  their  arms. 
They  came  singing  and  leaping,  many  of  them  naked  to  the 
middle.  Nor  was  this  all,  for  in  front  of  them  ran  the  yabas 


:288  MONT£2UMA>S  DAUGHTER 

and  such  of  the  Women  themselves  as  were  persons  ill 
authority.  These  leaders,  male  and  female,  ran  and  leaped 
and  sang,  calling  upon  the  names  of  their  demon-gods,  and 
celebrating  the  wickednesses  of  their  forefathers*  while  after 
them  poured  the  howling  troops  of  women. 

To  and  fro  they  rushed,  now  making  obeisance  to  the 
statue  of  Huitzel,  now  prostrating  themselves  before  his 
hideous  sister,  the  goddess  of  Death,  who  sat  beside  him 
adorned  with  her  carven  necklace  of  men's  skulls  and  hands., 
now  bowing  around  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  and  now  thrusting 
-their  bare  arms  into  the  flames  of  the  holy  fire.  For  an  hour 
<or  more  they  celebrated  this  ghastly  carnival,  of  which  even 
I,  versed  as  I  was  in  the  Indian  customs,  could  not  fully 
understand  the  meaning,  and  then,  as  though  some  single 
impulse  had  possessed  them,  they  withdrew  to  the  centre  of 
the  open  space,  and,  forming  themselves  into  a  double  circle, 
within  which  stood  the  pabas,  of  a  sudden  they  burst  into  a 
chant  so  wild  and  shrill  that  as  I  listened  my  blood  curdled  in 
my  veins. 

Even  now  the  burden  of  that  chant  with  the  vision  of 
those  who  sang  it  sometimes  haunts  my  sleep  at  night,  but  I 
will  not  write  it  here.  Let  him  who  reads  imagine  all  that  is 
most  cruel  in  the  heart  of  man,  and  every  terror  of  the  evillest 
dream,  adding  to  these  some  horror-ridden  tale  of  murder, 
ghosts,  and  inhuman  vengeance  ;  then,  if  he  can,  let  him  shape 
the  whole  in  words  and,  as  in  a  glass  darkly,  perchance  he  may 
mirror  the  spirit  of  that  last  ancient  song  of  the  women  of  the 
Otomie,  with  its  sobs,  its  cries  or  triumph,  and  its  death  wailings. 

Ever  as  they  sang,  step  by  step  they  drew  backwards,  and 
with  them  went  the  leaders  of  each  company,  their  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  statues  of  their  gods.  Now  they  were  but  a  segmenl 
of  a  circle,  for  they  did  not  advance  towards  the  temple  ;  back 
ward  and  outward  they  went  with  a  slow  and  solemn  tramp. 
There  was  but  one  line  of  them  now,  for  those  in  the  second  ring 
filled  the  gaps  in  the  first  as  it  widened  ;  still  they  drew  on  till 
at  length  they  stood  on  the  sheer  edge  of  the  platform.  Then 
the  priests  and  the  women  leaders  took  their  place  among 
them  and  for  a  moment  there  was  silence,  until  at  a  signal  one 
and  all  they  bent  them  backwards.  Standing  thus,  their  long 
hair  waving  on  the  wind,  the  light  of  burning  houses  flaring 
upon  their  breasts  and  in  their  maddened  eyes,  they  burst  into 
the  cry  of : 

'  Save  us,  Huitzel !  receive  us,  lord  god,  our  home  ! ' 

Thrice  they  cried  it,  each  time  more  shrilly  than  before, 


THE  SURRENDER  289 

then  suddenly  they  were  gone,  the  women  of  the  Otomie  were 
no  more  ! 

With  their  own  self-slaughter  they  had  consummated  the 
last  celebration  of  the  rites  of  sacrifice  that  ever  shall  be  held 
in  the  City  of  Pines.  The  devil  gods  were  dead  and  their 
worshippers  with  them. 

A  low  murmur  ran  round  the  lips  of  the  men  who  watched, 
then  one  cried,  and  his  voice  rang  strangely  in  the  sudden 
silence :  *  May  our  wives,  the  women  of  the  Otoinie.rest  softly  in 
the  Houses  of  the  Sun,  for  of  a  surety  they  teach  us  how  to  die.' 

'  Ay,'  I  answered,  *  but  not  thus.      Let  women  do  self- 
murder,  our  foes  have  swords  for  the  hearts  of  men.' 
•  I  turned  to  go,  and  before  me  stood  Otomie. 

'  What  has  befallen  ? '  she  said.  '  Where  are  my  sisters  ? 
Oh  !  surely  I  have  dreamed  an  evil  dream.  I  dreamed  that  the 
gods  of  my  forefathers  were  strong  once  more,  and  that  once 
more  they  drank  the  blood  of  men.' 

'  Your  ill  dream  has  a  worse  awakening,  Otomie,'  I  answered. 
'  The  gods  of  hell  are  still  strong  indeed  in  this  accursed  land, 
and  they  have  taken  your  sisters  into  their  keeping.' 

'  Is  it  so  ?  '  she  said  softly,  *  yet  in  my  dream  it  seemed  to 
me  that  this  was  their  last  strength  ere  they  sink  into  death 
unending.  Look  yonder ! '  and  she  pointed  toward  the  snowy 
crest  of  the  volcan  Xaca. 

I  looked,  but  whether  I  saw  the  sight  of  which  I  am  about 
to  tell  or  whether  it  was  but  an  imagining  born  of  the  horrors 
of  that  most  hideous  night,  in  truth  I  cannot  say.  At  the 
least  I  seemed  to  see  this,  and  afterwards  there  were  some 
among  the  Spaniards  who  swore  that  they  had  witnessed  it 
also. 

On  Xaca's  lofty  summit,  now  as  always  stood  a  pillar  of 
fiery  smoke,  and  while  I  gazed,  to  my  vision  the  smoke  and  the 
fire  separated  themselves.  Out  of  the  fire  was  fashioned  a 
cross  of  flame,  that  shone  like  lightning  and  stretched  for  many 
a  rod  across  the  heavens,  its  base  resting  on  the  mountain  top. 
At  its  foot  rolled  the  clouds  of  smoke,  and  now  these  too  took 
forms  vast  and  terrifying,  such  forms  indeed  as  those  that  sat 
in  stone  within  the  temple  behind  me,  but  magnified  a  hun- 
dredfold. 

'  See,'  said  Otomie  again,  '  the  cross  of  your  God  shines 
above  the  shapes  of  mine,  the  lost  gods  whom  to-night  I  wor- 
shipped though  not  of  my  own  will.'  Then  she  turned  and 
went. 


290  MONTEZUMA*S  DAUGHTER 

For  some  few  moments  I  stood  very  much  afraid,  gazing 
upon  the  vision  on  Xaca's  snow,  then  suddenly  the  rays  of  the 
rising  sun  smote  it  and  it  was  gone. 

Now  for  three  days  more  we  held  out  against  the  Spaniards, 
for  they  could  not  come  at  us  and  their  shot  swept  over  our 
heads  harmlessly.  During  these  days  I  had  no  talk  with  Oto- 
mie, for  we  shrank  from  one  another.  Hour  by  hour  she  would 
sit  in  the  storehouse  of  the  temple  a  very  picture  of  desolation. 
Twice  I  tried  to  speak  with  her,  my  heart  being  moved  to  pity 
by  the  dumb  torment  in  her  eyes,  but  she  turned  her  head  from 
me  and  made  no  answer. 

Soon  it  came  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Spaniards  that  we 
had  enough  food  and  water  upon  the  teocalli  to  enable  us  to 
live  there  for  a  month  or  more,  and  seeing  that  there  was  no 
hope  of  capturing  the  place  by  force  of  arms,  they  called  a 
parley  with  us. 

I  went  down  to  the  breach  in  the  roadway  and  spoke  with 
their  envoy,  who  stood  upon  the  path  below.  At  first  the  terms 
offered  were  that  we  should  surrender  at  discretion.  To  this 
I  answered  that  sooner  than  do  so  we  would  die  where  we 
were.  Their  reply  was  that  if  we  would  give  over  all  who  had 
any  part  in  the  human  sacrifice,  the  rest  of  us  might  go  free. 
To  this  I  said  that  the  sacrifice  had  been  carried  out  by  women 
and  some  few  men,  and  that  all  of  these  were  dead  by  their 
own  hands.  They  asked  if  Otomie  was  also  dead.  I  told  them 
no,  but  that  I  would  never  surrender  unless  they  swore  that 
neither  she  nor  her  son  should  be  harmed,  but  rather  that 
together  with  myself  they  should  be  given  a  safe-conduct  to 
go  whither  we  willed.  This  was  refused,  but  in  the  end  I  won 
the  day,  and  a  parchment  was  thrown  up  to  me  on  the  point 
of  a  lance.  This  parchment,  which  was  signed  by  the  Captain 
Bernal  Diaz,  set  out  that  in  consideration  of  the  part  that 
I  and  some  men  of  the  Otomie  had  played  in  rescuing  the 
Spanish  captives  from  death  by  sacrifice,  a  pardon  was  granted 
to  me,  my  wife  and  child,  and  all  upon  the  teocalli,  with 
liberty  to  go  whithersoever  we  would  unharmed,  our  lands  and 
wealth  being  however  declared  forfeit  to  the  viceroy. 

With  these  terms  I  was  well  content,  indeed  I  had  never 
hoped  to  win  any  that  would  leave  us  our  lives  and  liberty. 
And  yet  for  my  part  death  had  been  almost  as  welcome,  for 
now  Otomie  had  built  a  wall  between  us  that  I  could  never 
climb,  and  I  was  bound  to  her,  to  a  woman  who,  willingly  or 
no,  had  stained  her  hands  with  sacrifice.  Well,  my  son  was 


THE  SURRENDER  291 

left  to  me  and  with  him  I  must  be  satisfied ;  at  the  least  he 
knew  nothing  of  his  mother's  shame.  Oh  !  I  thought  to  my- 
self as  I  climbed  the  teocalli,  oh  !  that  I  could  but  escape  far 
from  this  accursed  land  and  bear  him  with  me  to  the  English 
shores,  ay,  and  Otomie  also,  for  there  she  might  forget  that 
once  she  had  been  a  savage.  Alas !  it  could  scarcely  be  ! 

Coming  to  the  temple,  I  and  those  with  me  told  the  good 
tidings  to  our  companions,  who  received  it  silently.  Men  of  a 
white  race  would  have  rejoiced  thus  to  escape,  for  when  <1 
is  near  all  other  loss  seems  as  nothing.  J>ut  with  tin  sc  Indian 
people  it  is  not  so,  since  when  fortune  frowns  upon  them  they 
do  not  cling  to  life.  These  men  of  the  Otomie  had  lost  their 
country,  their  wives,  their  wealth,  their  brethren,  and  tlu-ir 
homes;  therefore  life,  with  freedom  to  wander  whither  tiny 
would,  seemed  no  great  thing  to  them.  So  they  met  the  boon 
that  I  had  won  from  the  mercy  of  our  foes,  as  had  matters 
gone  otherwise  they  would  have  met  the  bane,  in  sullen 
silence. 

I  came  to  Otomie,  and  to  her  also  I  told  the  news. 

*  I  had  hoped  to  die  here  where  I  am,'  she  answered.     '  But 
so  be  it ;  death  is  always  to  be  found.' 

Only  my  son  rejoiced,  because  he  knew  that  God  had  saved 
us  all  from  death  by  sword  or  hunger. 

4  Father,'  he  said,  '  the  Spaniards  have  given  us  life,  Imt 
they  take  our  country  and  drive  us  out  of  it.  Where  then 
shall  we  go  ?  ' 

'I  do  not  know,  my  son,'  I  answered. 

*  Father,'   the  lad  said  again,  'let  us  leave  this  land  of 
Anahuac  where  there  is  nothing  but  Spaniards  and  sorrow. 
Let  us  find  a  ship  and  sail  across  the  seas  to  England,  our 
own  country.' 

The  boy  spoke  my  very  thought  and  my  heart  leapt  at  his 
words,  though  I  had  no  plan  to  bring  the  matter  about.  I 
pondered  a  moment,  looking  at  Otomie. 

1  The  thought  is  good,  Teule,'  she  said,  answering  my  un- 
spoken question  ;  '  for  you  and  for  our  son  there  is  no  better, 
but  for  myself  I  will  answer  in  the  proverb  of  my  people,  "  The 
earth  that  bears  us  lies  lightest  on  our  bones."  ' 

Then  she  turned,  making  ready  to  quit  the  storehouse  of 
the  temple  where  we  had  been  lodged  during  the  siege,  and 
no  more  was  said  about  the  matter. 

Before  the  sun  set  a  weary  throng  of  men,  with  some  few 
women  and  children,  were  marching  across  the  courtyard  that 
surrounded  the  pyramid,  for  a  bridge  of  timbers  taken  from  the 

u  2 


292  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

temple  had  been  made  over  the  breach  in  the  roadway  that 
wound  about  its  side. 

At  the  gates  the  Spaniards  were  waiting  to  receive  us. 
Some  of  them  cursed  us,  some  mocked,  but  those  of  the  nobler 
sort  said  nothing,  for  they  pitied  our  plight  and  respected  us 
for  the  courage  we  had  shown  in  the  last  struggle.  Their 
Indian  allies  were  there  also,  and  these  grinned  like  unfed 
pumas,  snarling  and  whimpering  for  our  lives,  till  their 
masters  kicked  them  to  silence.  The  last  act  of  the  fall  of 
Anahuac  was  as  the  first  had  been,  dog  still  ate  dog,  leaving 
the  goodly  spoil  to  the  lion  who  watched. 

At  the  gates  we  were  sorted  out ;  the  men  of  small  condi- 
tion, together  with  the  children,  were  taken  from  the  ruined 
city  by  an  escort  and  turned  loose  upon  the  mountains,  while 
those  of  note  were  brought  to  the  Spanish  camp,  to  be 
questioned  there  before  they  were  set  free.  I,  with  my  wife 
and  son,  was  led  to  the  palace,  our  old  home,  there  to  learn 
the  will  of  the  Captain  Diaz. 

It  is  but  a  little  way  to  go,  and  yet  there  was  something 
to  be  seen  in  the  path.  For  as  we  walked  I  looked  up,  anc 
before  me,  standing  with  folded  arms  and  apart  from  all  men 
was  de  Garcia.  I  had  scarcely  thought  of  him  for  some  days, 
so  full  had  my  mind  been  of  other  matters,  but  at  the  sighl 
of  his  evil  face  I  remembered  that  while  this  man  lived,  sorrow 
and  danger  must  be  my  bedfellows. 

He  watched  us  pass,  taking  note  of  all,  then  he  called  to 
me  who  walked  last : 

1  Farewell,  Cousin  Wingfield.  You  have  lived  through  this 
bout  also  and  won  a  free  pardon,  you,  your  woman  and  your 
brat  together.  If  the  old  war-horse  who  is  set  over  us  as 
captain  had  listened  to  me  you  should  have  been  burned  a 
the  stake,  every  one  of  you,  but  so  it  is.  Farewell  for  a  while 
friend.  I  am  away  to  Mexico  to  report  these  matters  to  the 
viceroy,  who  may  have  a  word  to  say.' 

I  made  no  answer,  but  asked  of  our  conductor,  that  same 
Spaniard  whom  I  had  saved  from  the  sacrifice,  what  the  sefio] 
meant  by  his  words. 

'  This,  Teule  ;  that  there  has  been  a  quarrel  between  ou: 
comrade  Sarceda  and  our  captain.  The  former  would  hav< 
granted  you  no  terms,  or  failing  this  would  have  decoyed  yoi 
from  your  stronghold  with  false  promises,  and  then  have  pu 
you  to  the  sword  as  infidels  with  whom  no  oath  is  binding 
But  the  captain  would  not  have  it  so,  for  he  said  that  fait! 
must  be  kept  even  with  the  heathen,  and  we  whom  'you  ha< 


THE  SURRENDER  293 

saved  cried  shame  on  him.  And  so  words  ran  high,  and  in 
the  end  the  Sefior  Sarceda,  who  is  third  in  command  among 
us,  declared  that  he  would  be  no  party  to  this  peace-making, 
but  would  be  gone  to  Mexico  with  his  servants,  there  to  report 
to  the  viceroy.  Then  the  Captain  Diaz  bade  him  begone  to 
hell  if  he  wished  and  report  to  the  devil,  saying  that  he  had 
always  believed  that  he  had  escaped  thence  by  mistake,  and 
they  parted  in  wrath  who,  since  the  day  of  noche  triste,  never 
loved  each  other  much  ;  the  end  of  it  being  that  Sarceda  rides 
for  Mexico  within  an  hour,  to  make  what  mischief  he  can  at 
the  viceroy's  court,  and  I  think  that  you  are  well  rid  of  him.' 

4  Father,'  said  my  son  to  me,  '  who  is  that  Spaniard  who 
looks  so  cruelly  upon  us  ? ' 

*  That  is  he  of  whom  I  have  told  you,  son,  de  Garcia,  who 
has  been  the  curse  of  our  race  for  two  generations,  who  betrayed 
your  grandfather  to  the  Holy  Office,  and  murdered  your  grand- 
mother, who  put  me  to  torture,  and  wrhose  ill  deeds  are  not  done 
with  yet.  Beware  of  him,  son,  now  and  ever,  I  beseech  you.' 

Now  we  were  come  to  the  palace,  almost  the  only  house  that 
was  left  standing  in  the  City  of  Pines.  Here  an  apartment 
was  given  to  us  at  the  end  of  the  long  building,  and  presently 
a  command  was  brought  to  us  that  I  and  my  wife  should  wait 
upon  the  Spanish  captain  Diaz. 

So  we  went,  though  Otomie  desired  to  stay  behind,  leaving 
our  son  alone  in  the  chamber  where  food  had  been  brought 
to  him.  I  remember  that  I  kissed  him  before  I  left,  though  I 
do  not  know  what  moved  me  to  do  so,  unless  it  was  because 
I  thought  that  he  might  be  asleep  when  I  returned.  The 
Captain  Diaz  had  his  quarters  at  the  other  end  of  the 
palace,  some  two  hundred  paces  away.  Presently  we  stood 
before  him.  He  was  a  rough-looking,  thick-set  man  well  on 
in  years,  with  bright  eyes  and  an  ugly  honest  face,  like  the 
face  of  a  peasant  who  has  toiled  a  lifetime  in  all  weathers, 
only  the  fields  that  Diaz  tilled  were  fields  of  war,  and  his 
harvest  had  been  the  lives  of  men.  Just  then  he  was  joking 
with  some  common  soldiers  in  a  strain  scarcely  suited  to  nice 
ears,  but  so  soon  as  he  saw  us  he  ceased  and  came  forward. 
I  saluted  him  after  the  Indian  fashion  by  touching  the  earth 
with  my  hand,  for  what  wras  I  but  an  Indian  captive  ? 

'  Your  sword,'  he  said  briefly,  as  he  scanned  me  with  his 
quick  eyes. 

I  unbuckled  it  from  my  side  and  handed  it  to  him,  saying 
in  Spanish  : 


294  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

*  Take  it,  Captain,  for  you  have  conquered,  also  it  does  but 
come  back  to  its  owner.'  For  this  was  the  same  sword  that  I  had 
captured  from  one  Bernal  Diaz  in  the  fray  of  the  noche  triste. 

He  looked  at  it,  then  swore  a  great  oath  and  said : 

'  I  thought  that  it  could  be  110  other  man.  And  so  we 
meet  again  thus  after  so  many  years.  Well,  you  gave  me  my 
life  once,  and  I  am  glad  that  I  have  lived  to  pay  the  debt. 
Had  I  not  been  sure  that  it  was  you,  you  had  not  won  such 
easy  terms,  friend.  How  are  you  named?  Nay,  I  know 
what  the  Indians  call  you.' 

'  I  am  named  Wingfield.' 

'Friend  Wingfield  then.  For  I  tell  you  that  I  would 
have  sat  beneath  yonder  devil's  house,' and  he  nodded  towards 
the  teocalli,  'till  you  starved  upon  its  top.  Nay,  friend 
Wingfield,  take  back  the  sword.  I  suited  myself  with  another 
many  years  ago,  and  you  have  used  this  one  gallantly  ;  never 
have  I  seen  Indians  make  a  better  fight.  And  so  that  is 
Otomie,  Montezuma's  daughter  and  your  wife,  still  handsome 
and  royal,  I  see.  Lord!  Lord!  it  is  many  years  ago,  and 
yet  it  seems  but  yesterday  that  I  saw  her  father  die,  a  Chris- 
tian-hearted man,  though  no  Christian,  and  one  whom  we 
dealt  ill  with.  May  God  forgive  us  all !  Well,  Madam,  none 
can  say  that  you  have  a  Christian  heart,  if  a  certain  tale  that 
I  have  heard  of  what  passed  yonder,  some  three  nights  since, 
is  true.  But  we  will  speak  no  more  of  it,  for  the  savage  blood 
will  show,  and  you  are  pardoned  for  your  husband's  sake  who 
saved  my  comrades  from  the  sacrifice.' 

To  all  this  Otomie  listened,  standing  still  like  a  statue, 
but  she  never  answered  a  word.  Indeed  she  had  spoken  very 
rarely  since  that  dreadful  night  of  her  unspeakable  shame. 

'  And  now,  friend  Wingfield,'  went  on  the  Captain  Diaz, 
'  what  is  your  purpose  ?  You  are  free  to  go  where  you  will, 
whither  then  will  you  go  ?  ' 

'  I  do  not  know,'  I  answered.  '  Years  ago,  when  the  Aztec 
emperor  gave  me  my  life  and  this  princess  my  wife  in  mar- 
riage, I  swore  to  be  faithful  to  him  and  his  cause,  and  to  fight 
for  them  till  Popo  ceased  to  vomit  smoke,  till  there  was  no 
king  in  Tenoctitlan,  and  the  people  of  Anahuac  were  no  more 
a  people.' 

'  Then  you  are  quit  of  your  oath,  friend,  for  all  these 
things  have  come  about,  and  there  has  been  no  smoke  on  Pope 
for  these  two  years.  Now,  if  you  will  be  advised  by  me,  yon 
will  turn  Christian  again  and  enter  the  service  of  Spain.  But 
come,  let  us  to  supper,  we  can  talk  of  these  matters  afterwards.' 


THE  SURRENDER  295 

So  we  sat  down  to  eat  by  the  light  of  torches  in  the 
banqueting  hall  with  Bernal  Diaz  and  some  other  of  the 
Spaniards.  Otomie  would  have  left  us,  and  though  the  cap- 
tain bade  her  stay  she  ate  nothing,  and  presently  slipped  away 
from  the  chamber. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

VENGEANCE 

DURING  that  meal  Bernal  Diaz  spoke  of  our  first  meeting  on 
the  causeway,  and  of  how  I  had  gone  near  to  killing  him  in 
error,  thinking  that  he  was  Sarceda,  and  then  he  asked  me 
what  was  my  quarrel  with  Sarceda. 

In  as  few  words  as  possible  I  told  him  the  story  of  my 
life,  of  all  the  evil  that  de  Garcia  or  Sarceda  had  worked 
upon  me  and  mine,  and  of  how  it  was  through  him  that  I 
was  in  this  land  that  day.  He  listened  amazed. 

'  Holy  Mother ! '  he  said  at  length,  '  I  always  knew  him  for 
a  villain,  but  that,  if  you  do  not  lie,  friend  Wingfield,  he  could 
be  such  a  man  as  this,  I  did  not  know.  Now  by  my  word, 
had  I  heard  this  tale  an  hour  ago,  Sarceda  should  not  have 
left  this  camp  till  he  had  answered  it  or  cleared  himself  by 
combat  with  you.  But  I  fear  it  is  too  late  ;  he  was  to  leave 
for  Mexico  at  the  rising  of  the  moon,  to  stir  up  mischief 
against  me  because  I  granted  you  terms — not  that  I  fear  him 
there,  where  his  repute  is  small.' 

'  I  do  not  lie  indeed,'  I  answered.  c  Much  of  this  tale  I  can 
prove  if  need  be,  and  I  tell  you  that  I  would  give  half  the  life 
that  is  left  to  me  to  stand  face  to  face  in  open  fight  with  him 
again.  Ever  he  has  escaped  me,  and  the  score  between  us  is 
long.' 

Now  as  I  spoke  thus  it  seemed  to  me  that  a  cold  and 
dreadful  air  played  upon  my  hands  and  brow  and  a  warning 
sense  of  present  evil  crept  into  my  soul,  overcoming  me  so 
that  I  could  not  stir  or  speak  for  a  while. 

*  Let  us  go  and  see  if  he  has  gone,'  said  Diaz  presently, 
and  summoning  a  guard,  he  was  about  to  leave  the  chamber. 
It  was  at  this  moment  that  I  chanced  to  look  up  and  see  a 
woman  standing  in  the  doorway.  Her  hand  rested  on  the 
doorpost ;  her  head,  from  which  the  long  hair  streamed,  was 
thrown  back,  and  on  her  face  was  a  look  of  such  anguish  that 
at  first,  so  much  was  she  changed,  I  did  not  know  her  for 


296  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

Otomie.     When  I  knew  her,  I  knew  all ;  one  thing  only  could 
conjure  up  the  terror  and  agony  that  shone  in  her  deep  eyes. 

'  What  has  chanced  to  our  son  ? '  I  asked. 

'  Dead,  dead  ! '  she  answered  in  a  whisper  that  seemed  to 
pierce  my  marrow. 

I  said  nothing,  for  my  heart  told  me  what  had  happened, 
but  Diaz  asked,  '  Dead — why,  what  has  killed  him  ?  ' 

'  De  Garcia  !  I  saw  him  go,'  replied  Otoniie  ;  then  she 
tossed  her  arms  high,  and  without  another  sound  fell  backwards 
to  the  earth. 

In  that  moment  I  think  that  my  heart  broke — at  least  I 
know  that  nothing  has  had  the  power  to  move  me  greatly 
since,  though  this  memory  moves  me  day  by  day  and  hour  by 
hour,  till  I  die  and  go  to  seek  my  son. 

'  Say,  Bernal  Diaz,'  I  cried,  with  a  hoarse  laugh,  '  did  I  lie 
to  you  concerning  this  comrade  of  yours  ?  ' 

Then,  springing  over  Otomie's  body  I  left  the  chamber, 
followed  by  Bernal  Diaz  and  the  others. 

Without  the  door  I  turned  to  the  left  towards  the  camp. 
I  had  not  gone  a  hundred  paces  when,  in  the  moonlight,  1 
saw  a  small  troop  of  horsemen  riding  towards  us.  It  was 
de  Garcia  and  his  servants,  and  they  headed  towards  the 
mountain  pass  on  their  road  to  Mexico.  I  was  not  too  late. 

'  Halt !  '  cried  Bernal  Diaz. 

'  Who  commands  me  to  halt  ? '  said  the  voice  of  de  Garcia 

'I,  your  captain,'  roared  Diaz.  'Halt,  you  devil,  yor 
murderer,  or  you  shall  be  cut  down.' 

I  saw  him  start  and  turn  pale. 

4  These  are  strange  manners,  seiior,'  he  said.  '  Of  you]1 
grace  I  ask — 

At  this  moment  de  Garcia  caught  sight  of  me  for  the  firs : 
time,  for  I  had  broken  from  the  hold  of  Diaz  who  clutched  nr 
arm,  and  was  moving  towards  him.  I  said  nothing,  but  there 
was  something  in  my  face  which  told  him  that  I  knew  all,  and 
warned  him  of  his  doom.  He  looked  past  me,  but  the  narrow 
road  was  blocked  with  men.  I  drew  near,  but  he  did  not  wait 
for  me.  Once  he  put  bis  hand  on  the  hilt  of  the  sword,  then 
suddenly  he  wheeled  his  horse  round  and  fled  down  the  street 
of  Xaca. 

De  Garcia  fled,  and  I  followed  after  him,  running  fast  anl 
low  like  a  hound.  At  first  he  gained  on  me,  but  soon  the  roal 
grew  rough,  and  he  could  not  gallop  over  it.  We  were  clear  of 
the  town  now,  or  rather  of  its  ruins,  and  travelling  along  a  little 
path  which  the  Indians  used  to  bring  down  snow  from  Xaca 


VENGEANCE  297 

in  the  hot  weather.  Perhaps  there  are  some  five  miles  of  this 
path  before  the  snow  line  is  reached,  beyond  which  no  Indian 
dared  to  set  his  foot,  for  the  ground  above  was  holy.  Along 
this  path  he  went,  and  I  was  content  to  see  it,  for  I  knew  well 
that  the  traveller  cannot  leave  it,  since  on  either  side  lie  water- 
courses and  cliffs.  Mile  after  mile  de  Garcia  followed  it,  look- 
ing now  to  the  left,  now  to  the  right,  and  now  ahead  at  the 
great  dome  of  snow  crowned  with  fire  that  towered  above  him. 
But  he  never  looked  behind  him ;  he  knew  what  was  there — 
death  in  the  shape  of  a  man  ! 

I  came  on  doggedly,  saving  my  strength.  I  was  sure  that 
I  must  catch  him  at  last,  it  did  not  matter  wrhen. 

At  length  he  reached  the  snow-line  where  the  path  ended, 
and  for  the  first  time  he  looked  back.  There  I  was  some  two 
hundred  paces  behind  him.  I,  his  death,  was  behind  him, 
and  in  front  of  him  shone  the  snow.  For  a  moment  he  hesi- 
tated, and  I  heard  the  heavy  breathing  of  his  horse  in  the  great 
stillness.  Then  he  turned  and  faced  the  slope,  driving  his 
spurs  into  the  brute's  sides.  The  snow  was  hard,  for  here  the 
frost  bit  sharply,  and  for  a  while,  though  it  was  so  steep,  the 
horse  travelled  over  it  better  than  he  had  done  along  the  path- 
way. Now,  as  before,  there  was  only  one  road  that  he  could 
take,  for  we  passed  up  the  crest  of  a  ridge,  a  pleat  as  it  were  in 
the  garment  of  the  mountain,  and  on  either  side  were  steeps  of 
snow  on  which  neither  horse  nor  man  might  keep  his  footing. 
For  two  hours  or  more  we  followed  that  ridge,  and  as  we  went 
through  the  silence  of  the  haunted  volcan,  and  the  loneli- 
ness of  its  eternal  snows,  it  seemed  to  me  that  my  spirit 
entered  into  the  spirit  of  my  quarry,  and  that  with  its  eyes  I 
saw  all  that  was  passing  in  his  heart.  To  a  man  so  wronged 
the  dream  was  pleasant  even  if  it  were  not  true,  for  I  read 
there  such  agony,  such  black  despair,  such  haunting  memo- 
ries, such  terror  of  advancing  death  and  of  what  lay  beyond  it, 
that  no  revenge  of  man's  could  surpass  their  torment.  And 
it  was  true — I  knew  that  it  was  true ;  he  suffered  all  this 
and  more,  for  if  he  had  no  conscience,  at  least  he  had  fear  and 
imagination  to  quicken  and  multiply  the  fear. 

Now  the  snow  grew  steeper,  and  the  horse  was  almost 
spent,  for  he  could  scarcely  breathe  at  so  great  a  height.  In 
vain  did  de  Garcia  drive  his  spurs  into  its  sides,  the  gallant 
beast  could  do  no  more.  Suddenly  it  fell  down.  Surely,  I 
thought,  he  will  await  me  now.  But  even  I  had  not  fathomed 
the  depth  of  his  terrors,  for  de  Garcia  disengaged  himself 
from  the  fallen  horse,  looked  towards  me,  then  fled  forward 


298  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

on  his  feet,  casting  away  his  armour  as  he  went  that  he 
might  travel  more  lightly. 

By  this  time  we  had  passed  the  snow  and  were  eome  to  the 
edge  of  the  ice  cap  that  -is  made  by  the  melting  of  the  snow 
with  the  heat  of  the  inner  fires,  or  perhaps  by  that  of  the 
sun  in  hot  seasons,  I  know  not,  and  its  freezing  in  the  winter 
months  or  in  the  cold  of  the  nights.  At  least  there  is  such  a  cap 
on  Xaca,  measuring  nearly  a  mile  in  depth,  which  lies  between 
the  snow  and  the  black  rim  of  the  crater.  Up  this  ice 
climbed  de  Garcia,  and  the  task  is  not  of  the  easiest,  even  for 
one  of  untroubled  mind,  for  a  man  must  step  from  crack  to 
crack  or  needle  to  needle  of  rough  ice,  that  stand  upon  the 
smooth  surface  like  the  bristles  on  a  hog's  back,  and  woe  to 
him  if  one  break  or  if  he  slip,  for  then,  as  he  falls,  very  shortly 
the  flesh  will  be  filed  from  his  bones  by  the  thousands  of 
sword-like  points  over  which  he  must  pass  in  his  descent 
towards  the  snow.  Indeed,  many  times  I  feared  greatly  lest 
this  should  chance  to  de  Garcia,  for  I  did  not  desire  to  lose 
my  vengeance  thus.  Therefore  twice  when  I  saw  him  in 
danger  I  shouted  to  him,  telling  him  where  to  put  his  feet, 
for  now  I  was  within  twenty  paces  of  him,  and,  strange 
to  say,  he  obeyed  me  without  question,  forgetting  everything 
in  his  terror  of  instant  death.  But  for  myself  I  had  no  fear, 
for  I  knew  that  I  should  not  fall,  though  the  place  was  one 
which  I  had  surely  shrunk  from  climbing  at  any  other  time. 

All  this  while  we  had  been  travelling  towards  Xaca's  fiery 
crest  by  the  bright  moonlight,  but  now  the  dawn  broke 
suddenly  on  the  mountain  top,  and  the  flame  died  away  in  the 
heart  of  the  pillar  of  smoke.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  the  red 
glory  that  shone  upon  the  ice-cap,  and  on  us  two  men  who 
crept  like  flies  across  it,  while  the  mountain's  breast  and  the 
world  below  were  plunged  in  the  shadows  of  night. 

1  Now  we  have  a  better  light  to  climb  by,  comrade ! '  I 
called  to  de  Garcia,  and  my  voice  rang  strangely  among  the 
ice  cliffs,  where  never  a  man's  voice  had  echoed  before. 

As  I  spoke  the  mountain  rumbled  and  bellowed  beneath 
us,  shaking  like  a  wind-tossed  tree,  as  though  in  wrath  at  the 
desecration  of  its  sacred  solitudes.  With  the  rumbling  came 
a  shower  of  grey  ashes  that  rained  down  on  us,  and  for  a  little 
while  hid  de  Garcia  from  my  sight.  I  heard  him  call  out  in 
fear,  and  was  afraid  lest  he  had  fallen  ;  but  presently  the  ashes 
cleared  away,  and  I  saw  him  standing  safely  on  the  lava  rim 
that  surrounds  the  crater. 

Now,  I  thought,  he  will  surely  make  a  stand,  for  could  he 


He  never  looked  behind  him  ;  he  knew  what  was  there— death  in  the 
shape  of  a  man  ! 


VENGEANCE  299 

have  found  courage  it  had  been  easy  for  him  to  kill  me  with 
his  sword,  which  he  still  wore,  as  I  climbed  from  the  ice  to  the 
hot  lava.  It  seemed  that  he  thought  of  it,  for  he  turned  and 
glared  at  me  like  a  devil,  then  went  on  again,  leaving  me  won- 
dering where  he  believed  that  he  would  find  refuge.  Some  three 
hundred  paces  from  the  edge  of  the  ice,  the  smoke  and  steam 
of  the  crater  rose  into  the  air,  and  between  the  two  was  lava  so 
hot  that  in  places  it  was  difficult  to  walk  upon  it.  Across  this 
bed,  that  trembled  as  I  passed  over  it,  went  de  Garcia  some- 
what slowly,  for  now  he  was  weary,  and  I  followed  him  at  my 
ease,  getting  my  breath  again. 

Presently  I  saw  that  he  had  come  to  the  edge  of  the  crater, 
for  he  leaned  forward  and  looked  over,  and  I  thought  that  he 
was  about  to  destroy  himself  by  plunging  into  it.  But  if  such 
thoughts  had  been  in  his  mind,  he  forgot  them  when  he  had  seen 
what  sort  of  nest  this  was  to  sleep  in,  for  turning,  he  came  back 
towards  me,  sword  up,  and  we  met  within  a  dozen  paces  of  the 
edge.  I  say  met,  but  in  truth  we  did  not  meet,  for  he  stopped  again, 
well  out  of  reach  of  my  sword.  I  sat  down  upon  a  block  of  lava 
and  looked  at  him  ;  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  could  not  feast  my 
eyes  enough  upon  his  face.  And  what  a  face  it  was ;  that  of  a  more 
than  murderer  about  to  meet  his  reward !  Would  that  I  could 
paint  to  show  it,  for  no  words  can  tell  the  fearfulness  of  those 
red  and  sunken  eyes,  those  grinning  teeth  and  quivering  lips. 
I  think  that  when  the  enemy  of  mankind  has  cast  his  last  die  and 
won  his  last  soul,  he  too  will  look  thus  as  he  passes  into  doom. 

'  At  length,  de  Garcia ! '  I  said. 

*  Why  do  you  not  kill  me  and  make  an  end  ?  '  he  asked 
hoarsely. 

1  Where  is  the  hurry,  cousin  ?  For  hard  on  twenty  years 
I  have  sought  you,  shall  we  then  part  so  soon  ?  Let  us  talk 
a  while.  Before  we  part  to  meet  no  more,  perhaps  of  your 
courtesy  you  will  answer  me  a  question,  for  I  am  curious. 
Why  have  you  wrought  these  evils  on  me  and  mine  ?  Surely 
you  must  have  some  reason  for  what  seems  to  be  an  empty  and 
foolish  wickedness.' 

I  spoke  to  him  thus  calmly  and  coldly,  feeling  no  passion, 
feeling  nothing.  For  in  that  strange  hour  I  was  no  longer 
Thomas  Wingfield,  I  was  no  longer  human,  I  was  a  force, 
an  instrument ;  I  could  think  of  my  dead  son  without 
sorrow,  he  did  not  seem  dead  to  me,  for  I  partook  of  the 
nature  that  he  had  put  on  in  this  change  of  death.  I  could 
even  think  of  de  Garcia  without  hate,  as  though  he  also 
were  nothing  but  a  tool  in  some  other  hand.  Moreover,  I 


300  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

'knew  that  he  was  mine,  body  and  mind,  and  that  he  must 
answer  and  truly,  so  surely  as  he  must  die  when  I  chose  to 
kill  him.  He  tried  to  shut  his  lips,  but  they  opened  of  them- 
selves and  word  by  word  the  truth  was  dragged  from  his  black 
heart  as  though  he  stood  already  before  the  judgment  seat. 

'  I  loved  your  mother,  my  cousin,'  he  said,  speaking  slowly 
and  painfully ;  '  from  a  child  I  loved  her  only  in  the  world, 
as  I  love  her  to  this  hour,  but  she  hated  me  because  I  was 
wicked  and  feared  me  because  1  was  cruel.  Then  she  saw 
your  father  and  loved  him,  and  brought  about  his  escape  from 
the  Holy  Office,  whither  I  had  delivered  him  to  be  tortured 
and  burnt,  and  fled  with  him  to  England.  I  was  jealous  and 
would  have  been  revenged  if  I  might,  but  there  was  no  way. 
I  led  an  evil  life,  and  when  nearly  twenty  years  had  gone  by, 
chance  took  me  to  England  on  a  trading  journey.  By  chance 
I  learned  that  your  father  and  mother  lived  near  Yarmouth, 
and  I  determined  to  see  her,  though  at  that  time  I  had  110 
thought  of  killing  her.  Fortune  favoured  me,  and  we  met  in 
the  woodland,  and  I  saw  that  she  was  still  beautiful  and  knew 
that  I  loved  her  more  than  ever  before.  I  gave  her  choice  to 
fly  with  me  or  to  die,  and  after  a  while  she  died.  But  as  she 
shrank  up  the  wooded  hillside  before  my  sword,  of  a  sudden 
she  stood  still  and  said  : 

'  "  Listen  before  you  smite,  Juan.  I  have  a  death  vision. 
As  I  have  fled  from  you,  so  shall  you  fly  before  one  of  my 
blood  in  a  place  of  fire  and  rock  and  snow,  and  as  you  drive 
me  to  the  gates  of  heaven,  so  he  shall  drive  you  into  the 
mouth  of  hell."  : 

'  In  such  a  place  as  this,  cousin,'  I  said. 

*  In  such  a  place  as  this,'  he  whispered,  glancing  round. 

*  Continue.' 

Again  he  strove  to  be  silent,  but  again  my  will  mastered 
him  and  he  spoke. 

'  It  was  too  late  to  spare  her  if  I  wished  to  escape  myself,  so 
I  killed  her  and  fled.  But  terror  entered  my  heart,  terror  which 
has  never  left  it  to  this  hour,  for  always  before  my  eyes  wa» 
the  vision  of  him  of  your  mother's  blood,  before  whom  L 
should  fly  as  she  fled  before  me,  who  shall  drive  rne  into  tho 
mouth  of  hell.' 

'  That  must  be  yonder,  cousin,'  I  said,  pointing  with  tho 
Sword  toward  the  pit  of  the  crater. 

'  It  is  yonder ;  I  have  looked.' 

'  But  only  for  the  body,  cousin,  not  for  the  spirit.' 

'  Only  for  the  body,  not  for  the  spirit,'  he  repeated  after  me . 


VENGEANCE  301 

'  Continue,'  I  said. 

*  Afterwards  on  that  same  day  I  met  you,  Thomas  Wing- 
field.   Already  your  dead  mother's  prophecy  had  taken  hold  of 
me,  and  seeing  one  of  her  blood  I  strove  to  kill  him  lest  he 
should  kill  me.' 

'  As  he  will  do  presently,  cousin.' 

4  As  he  will  do  presently,'  he  repeated  like  a  talking  hird. 

*  You  know  what  happened  and  how  I  escaped.     I  fled  to 
Spain  and  strove  to  forget.   But  I  could  not.   One  night  I  saw 
a  face  in  the  streets  of  Seville  that  reminded  me  of  your  face. 
I  did  not  think  that  it  could  be  you,  yet  so  strong  was  my 
fear  that  I  determined  to  fly  to  the  far  Indies.   You  met  me  on 
the  night  of  my  flight  when  I  was  bidding  farewell  to  a  lady.' 

'  One  Isabella  de  Siguenza,  cousin.  I  bade  farewell  to 
her  afterwards  and  delivered  her  dying  words  to  you.  Now 
she  waits  to  welcome  you  again,  she  and  her  child.' 

He  shuddered  and  went  on.  'In  the  ocean  we  met  again. 
You  rose  out  of  the  sea.  I  did  not  dare  to  kill  you  at  once,  I 
thought  that  you  must  die  in  the  slave-hold  and  that  none 
could  bear  witness  against  me  and  hold  me  guilty  of  your 
blood.  You  did  not  die,  even  the  sea  could  net  destroy  you. 
But  I  thought  that  you  were  dead.  I  came  to  Anahuac  in 
the  train  of  Cortes  and  again  we  met ;  that  time  you  nearly 
killed  me.  Afterwards  I  had  my  revenge  and  I  tortured 
you  well ;  I  meant  to  murder  you  on  the  morrow,  though 
first  I  would  torture  you,  for  terror  can  be  very  cruel,  but 
you  escaped  me.  Long  years  passed,  I  wandered  hither  and 
thither,  to  Spain,  back  to  Mexico,  and  elsewhere,  but  wherever 
I  went  my  fear,  the  ghosts  of  the  dead,  and  my  dreams  went 
with  me,  and  I  was  never  fortunate.  Only  the  other  day 
I  joined  the  company  of  Diaz  as  an  adventurer.  Not  till  we 
reached  the  City  of  Pines  did  I  learn  that  you  were  the 
captain  of  the  Otomie ;  it  was  said  that  you  were  long  dead. 
You  know  the  rest.' 

'  Why  did  you  murder  my  son,  cousin  ?  ' 

'  Was  he  not  of  your  mother's  blood,  of  the  blood  that 
should  bring  my  doom  upon  me,  and  did  I  owe  you  no  reward 
for  all  the  terrors  of  these  many  years  ?  Moreover  he  is 
foolish  who  strives  to  slay  the  father  and  spares  the  son.  He 
is  dead  and  I  am  glad  that  I  killed  him,  though  he  haunts 
me  now  with  the  others.' 

1  And  shall  haunt  you  eternally.  Now  let  us  make  an  end. 
You  have  your  sword,  use  it  if  you  can.  It  will  be  easier  to 
die  fighting.' 


3«2  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

'  I  cannot,'  he  groaned  ;  '  my  doom  is  upon  me.' 

*  As  you  will,'  and  I  came  at  him,  sword  up. 

He  ran  from  before  me,  moving  backwards  and  keeping  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  mine,  as  I  have  seen  a  rat  do  when  a  snake 
is  about  to  swallow  it.  Now  we  were  upon  the  edge  of  the 
crater,  and  looking  over  I  saw  an  awful  sight.  For  there, 
some  thirty  feet  beneath  us,  the  red-hot  lava  glowing  sullenly 
beneath  a  shifting  pall  of  smoke,  rolled  and  spouted  like  a 
thing  alive.  Jets  of  steam  flew  upwards  from  it  with  a 
screaming  sound,  lin^s  of  noxious  vapours,  many-coloured, 
crept  and  twisted  on  its  surface,  and  a  hot  and  horrid  stench 
poisoned  the  heated  air.  Here  indeed  was  such  a  gate  as  I 
could  wish  for  de  Garcia  to  pass  through  to  his  own  abode. 

I  looked,  pointed  with  my  sword,  and  laughed ;  he  looked 
and  shrieked  aloud,  for  now  all  his  manhood  had  left  him, 
so  great  was  his  terror  of  what  lay  beyond  the  end.  Yes, 
this  proud  and  haughty  Spaniard  screamed  and  wept  and 
prayed  for  mercy  ;  he  who  had  done  so  many  villanies  beyond 
forgiveness,  prayed  for  mercy  that  he  might  find  time  to 
repent.  I  stood  and  watched  him,  and  so  dreadful  was  his 
aspect  that  horror  struck  me  even  through  the  calm  of  my 
frozen  heart. 

'Come,  it  is  time  to  finish,'  I  said,  and  again  I  lifted  my 
sword,  only  to  let  it  fall,  for  suddenly  his  brain  gave  way  and 
de  Garcia  went  mad  before  my  eyes  ! 

Of  all  that  followed  I  will  not  write.  With  his  madness 
courage  came  back  to  him,  and  he  began  to  fight,  but  not 
with  me. 

He  seemed  to  perceive  me  no  more,  but  nevertheless  he 
fought,  and  desperately,  thrusting  at  the  empty  air.  It  was 
terrible  to  see  him  thus  doing  battle  with  his  invisible  foes,  and 
to  hear  his  screams  and  curses,  as  inch  by  inch  they  drove  him 
back  to  the  edge  of  the  crater.  Here  he  stood  awhile,  like 
one  who  makes  a  last  stand  against  overpowering  strength, 
thrusting  and  striking  furiously.  Twice  he  nearly  fell,  as 
though  beneath  a  mortal  wound,  but  recovering  himself, 
fought  on  with  Nothingness.  Then,  with  a  sharp  cry,  sud- 
denly he  threw  his  arms  wide,  as  a  man  does  who  is  pierced 
through  the  heart ;  his  sword  dropped  from  his  hand,  and  he 
fell  backwards  into  the  pit. 

I  turned  away  my  eyes,  for  I  wished  to  see  no  more  ;  but 
often  I  have  wondered  Who  or  What  it  was  that  dealt  de  Garcia 
his  death  wound. 


He  fought,  and  desperately,  thrusting  at  the  empty  air 


OTOMIE*S  FAREWELL  303 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII 
OTOMIE'S  FAKE  WELL 

THUS  then  did  I  accomplish  the  vengeance  that  I  had  sworn 
to  my  father  I  would  wreak  upon  de  Garcia,  or  rather,  thus  did 
I  witness  its  accomplishment,  for  in  the  end  he  died,  terribly 
enough,  not  by  my  hand  but  by  those  of  his  own  fears.  Since 
then  I  have  sorrowed  for  this,  for,  when  the  frozen  and  un- 
natural calm  passed  from  my  mind,  I  hated  him  as  bitterly  as 
ever,  and  grieved  that  I  let  him  die  otherwise  than  by  my 
hand,  and  to  this  hour  such  is  my  mind  towards  him.  Doubt- 
less, many  may  think  it  wicked,  since  we  are  taught  to  forgive 
our  enemies,  but  here  I  leave  the  forgiveness  to  God,  for  how 
can  I  pardon  one  who  betrayed  my  father  to  the  priests,  who 
murdered  my  mother  and  my  son,  who  chained  me  in  the 
slave-ship  and  for  many  hours  tortured  me  with  his  own  hand  ? 
Rather,  year  by  year,  do  I  hate  him  more.  I  write  of  this  at 
some  length,  since  the  matter  has  been  a  trouble  to  me.  I 
never  could  say  that  I  was  in  charity  with  all  men  living  and 
dead,  and  because  of  this,  some  years  since,  a  worthy  and 
learned  rector  of  this  parish  took  upon  himself  to  refuse  me 
the  rites  of  the  church.  Then  I  went  to  the  bishop  and  laid 
the  story  before  him,  and  it  puzzled  him  somewhat. 

But  he  was  a  man  of  large  mind,  and  in  the  end  he  rebuked 
the  rector  and  commanded  him  to  minister  to  me,  for  he 
thought  with  me  that  the  Almighty  could  not  ask  of  an 
erring  man,  that  he  should  forgive  one  who  had  wrought  such 
evils  on  him  and  his,  even  though  that  enemy  were  dead  and 
gone  to  judgment  in  another  place. 

But  enough  of  this  question  of  conscience. 

When  de  Garcia  was  gone  into  the  pit,  I  turned  my  steps 
homewards,  or  rather  towards  the  ruined  city  which  I  could 
see  beneath  me,  for  I  had  no  home  left.  Now  I  must  descend 
the  ice  cap,  and  this  I  found  less  easy  than  climbing  it  had 
been,  for,  my  vengeance  being  accomplished,  I  became  as 
other  men  are,  and  a  sad  and  weary  one  at  that,  so  sad  indeed 
that  I  should  not  have  sorrowed  greatly  if  I  had  made  a  false 
step  upon  the  ice. 

But  I  made  none,  and  at  length  I  came  to  the  snow  where 
the  travelling  was  easy.  My  oath  was  fulfilled  and  my  ven- 
geance was  accomplished,  but  as  I  went  I  reckoned  up  the 


304  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

cost.  I  had  lost  my  betrothed,  the  love  of  my  youth ;  for 
twenty  years  I  had  lived  a  savage  chief  among  savages  and 
made  acquaintance  with  every  hardship,  wedded  to  a  woman 
who,  although  she  loved  me  dearly,  and  did  not  lack  nobility 
of  mind,  as  she  had  shown  the  other  day,  was  still  at  heart  a 
savage  or,  at  the  least,  a  thrall  of  demon  gods.  The  tribe  that 
I  ruled  was  conquered,  the  beautiful  city  where .  I  dwelt  was 
a  ruin,  I  was  homeless  and  a  beggar,  and  my  fortune  would 
be  great  if  in  the  issue  I  escaped  death  or  slavery.  All  this  I 
could  have  borne,  for  I  had  borne  the  like  before,  but  the 
cruel  end  of  my  last  surviving  son,  the  one  true  joy  of  my 
desolate  life,  I  could  not  bear.  The  love  of  those  "children 
had  become  the  passion  of  my  middle  age,  and  as  I  loved 
them  so  they  had  loved  me.  I  had  trained  them  from  baby- 
hood till  their  hearts  were  English  and  not  Aztec,  as  were  their 
speech  and  faith,  and  thus  they  were  not  only  my  dear 
children,  but  companions  of  my  own  race,  the  only  ones  I 
had.  And  now  by  accident,  by  sickness,  and  by  the  sword, 
they  were  dead  the  three  of  them,  and  I  was  desolate. 

Ah  !  we  think  much  of  the  sorrows  of  our  youth,  and 
should  a  sweetheart  give  us  the  go  by  we  fill  the  world 
with  moans  and  swear  that  it  holds  no  comfort  for  us.  But 
when  we  bend  our  heads  before  the  shrouded  shape  of  some 
lost  child,  then  it  is  that  for  the  first  time  we  learn  how  ter- 
rible grief  can  be.  Time,  they  tell  us,  will  bring  consolation, 
but  it  is  false,  for  such  sorrows  time  has  no  salves — I  say  it 
who  am  old — as  they  are  so  they  shall  be.  There  is  no  hope 
but  faith,  there  is  no  comfort  save  in  the  truth  that  love 
which  might  have  withered  on  the  earth  grows  fastest  in  the 
tomb,  to  flower  gloriously  in  heaven  ;  that  no  love  indeed  can 
be  perfect  till  God  sanctifies  and  completes  it  with  His  seal 
of  death. 

I  threw  myself  down  there  upon  the  desolate  snows  of 
Xaca,  that  none  had  trod  before,  and  wept  such  tears  as  a  man 
may  weep  but  once  in  his  life  days. 

1  0  my  son  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  Absalom  !  woulc 
God  I  had  died  for  thee,  0  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  ! '  I  criec. 
with  the  ancient  king — I  whose  grief  was  greater  than  his,  for 
had  I  not  lost  three  sons  within  as  many  years  ?  Then  re- 
membering that  as  this  king  had  gone  to  join  his  son  long 
centuries  ago,  so  I  must  one  day  go  to  join  mine,  and  taking  such 
comfort  from  the  thought  as  may  be  found  in  it,  I  rose  and 
crept  back  to  the  ruined  City  of  Pines. 


OTOMIE'S  FAREWELL  30$ 

It  was  near  sunset  when  I  came  thither,  for  the  road  was 
long  and  I  grew  weak.  By  the  palace  I  met  the  Captain  Diaz 
and  some  of  his  company,  and  they  lifted  their  bonnets  to  me 
as  I  went  by,  for  they  had  respect  for  my  sorrows.  Only  Diaz 
spoke,  saying  : 

. '  Is  the  murderer  dead  ?  ' 

I  nodded  and  went  on.  I  went  on  to  our  chamber,  for  there 
I  thought  that  I  should  find  Otomie. 

She  sat  in  it  alone,  cold  and  beautiful  as  though  she  had 
been  fashioned  in  marble. 

*  I  have  buried  him  with  the  bones  of  his  brethren  and  his 
forefathers,'  she  said,  answering  the  question  that  my  eyes 
asked.     *  It  seemed  best  that  you  should  see  him  no  more, 
lest  your  heart  should  break.' 

*  It  is  well,'  I  answered ;  '  but  my  heart  is  broken  already.' 

*  Is  the  murderer  dead  ? '  she  said  presently  in  the  very 
words  of  Diaz. 

'  He  is  dead.' 

1  How  ?  ' 

I  told  her  in  few  words. 

'  You  should  have  slain  him  yourself ;  our  son's  blood  is 
not  avenged.' 

'  I  should  have  slain  him,  but  in  that  hour  I  did  not  seek 
vengeance,  I  watched  it  fall  from  heaven,  and  was  content. 
Perchance  it  is  best  so.  The  seeking  of  vengeance  has  brought 
all  my  sorrows  upon  me ;  vengeance  belongs  to  God  and  not 
to  man,  as  I  have  learned  too  late.' 

'  I  do  not  think  so,'  said  Otomie,  and  the  look  upon  her 
face  was  that  look  which  I  had  seen  when  she  smote  the  Tlas- 
calan,  when  she  taunted  Marina,  and  when  she  danced  upon 
the  pyramid,  the  leader  of  the  sacrifice.  '  Had  I  been  in  your 
place,  I  would  have  killed  him  by  inches.  When  I  had  done 
with  him,  then  the  devils  might  begin,  not  before.  But  it  is 
of  no  account ;  everything  is  done  with,  all  are  dead,  and  my 
heart  with  them.  Now  eat,  for  you  are  weary.' 

So  late,  and  afterwards  I  cast  myself  upon  the  bed  and  slept. 

In  the  darkness  I  heard  the  voice  of  Otomie  that  said, 
'  Awake,  I  would  speak  with  you,'  and  there  was  that  about 
her  voice  which  stirred  me  from  my  heavy  sleep. 
'  Speak  on,'  I  said.     '  Where  are  you,  Otomie  ?  ' 
'  Seated  at  your  side.     I  cannot  rest,  so  I  am  seated  here. 
Listen.     Many,   many  years  ago   we   met,   when   you  were 
brought  by  Guatemoc  from  Tobasco.     Ah !  well  do  I  remember 


3o6  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

my  first  sight  of  you,  the  Teule,  in  the  court  of  my  father 
Montezuma,  at  Chapoltepec.  I  loved  you  then  as  I  have 
loved  you  ever  since.  At  least  I  have  never  gone  astray  aftei 
strange  gods,'  and  she  laughed  bitterly. 

'  Why  do  you  talk  of  these  things,  Otomie  ?  '  I  asked. 

*  Because  it  is  my  fancy  to  do  so.     Cannot  you  spare  me 
one  hour  from  your  sleep,  who  have  spared  you  so  many  ? 
You  remember  how  you  scorned  me — oh  !  I  thought  I  shoulc 
have  died  of  shame  when,  after  I  had  caused  myself  to  be  given 
to  you  as  wife,  the  wife  of  Tezcat,  you  told  me  of  the  mai( 
across  the  seas,  that  Lily  maid  whose  token  is  still  set  upor 
your  finger.     But   I  lived   through  it  and  I  loved  you  the 
better  for  your  honesty,  and  then  you  know  the  rest.     I  wor 
you  because  I  was  brave  and  lay  at  your  side  upon  the  stone 
of  sacrifice,  where  you  kissed  me  and  told  me  that  you  lovec 
me.     But  you  never  loved  me,  not  truly,  all  the  while  yoi 
were  thinking  of  the  Lily  maid.     I  knew  it  then,  as  I  knov 
it  now,  though  I  tried  to  deceive  myself.     I  was  beautiful  ii 
those  days  and  this  is  something  with  a  man.     I  was  faithfu 
and  that  is  more,  and  once  or  twice  you  thought  that  yoi 
loved  me.     Now   I   wish   that   those   Teules   had  come  ai 
hour  later,  and  we  had  died  together  there  upon  the  stone 
that  is  I  wish  it  for  my  own  sake,  not  for  yours.     Then  w 
escaped  and  the  great  struggle  came.     I  told  you  then  tha 
I   understood   it   all.     You  had  kissed  me  on  the  stone  c 
sacrifice,  but  in  that  moment  you  were  as  one  dead  ;  when  yo 
came   back  to  life,  it  was  otherwise.     But  fortune  took  th 
game  out  of  your  hands  and  you  married  me,  and  swore  a 
oath   to   me,  and  this  oath  you  have  kept  faithfully.     Yo 
married  me  but  you  did  not  know  whom  you  married ;  yo 
thought   me   beautiful,   and   sweet,  and   true,  and  all  then 
things  I  was,  but  you  did  not  understand  that  I  was  far  apar 
from  you,  that  I  was  still   a  savage  as  my  forefathers   hac 
been.     You  thought  that  I  had  learned  your  ways,  perchanc 
even  you   thought  that  I  reverenced  your  God,  as  for  you 
sake  I  have  striven  to  do,  but  all  the  while  I  have  followed  tt 
ways  of  my  own  people  and  I  could  not  quite  forget  my  own 
gods,  or  at  the  least  they  would  not  suffer  me,  their  servant 
to  escape  them.     For  years  and  years  I  put  them  from  ma 
but  at  last  they  were  avenged  and  my  heart  mastered  me,  01 
rather  they  mastered  me,  for  I  knew  nothing  of  what  I  die 
some  few  nights   since,   when  I  celebrated  the   sacrifice  1,0 
Huitzel  and  you  saw  me  at  the  ancient  rites. 

'  All  these  years  you  had  been  true  to  me  and  I  had  borne 


OTOMI&S  FAREWELL  307 

you  children  whom  you  loved ;  but  you  loved  them  for  their 
own  sake,  not  for  mine,  indeed,  at  heart  you  hated  the  Indian 
blood  that  was  mixed  in  their  veins  with  yours.  Me  also  you 
loved  in  a  certain  fashion  and  this  half  love  of  yours  drove  me 
well  nigh  mad  ;  such  as  it  was,  it  died  when  you  saw  me  dis- 
traught and  celebrating  the  rites  of  my  forefathers  on  the  teocalli 
yonder,  and  you  knew  me  for  what  I  am,  a  savage.  And  now 
the  children  who  linked  us  together  are  dead — one  by  one  they 
died  in  this  way  and  in  that,  for  the  curse  which  follows  my  blood 
descended  upon  them — and  your  love  for  me  is  dead  with  them. 
I  alone  remain  alive,  a  monument  of  past  days,  and  I  die  also. 

'  Nay,  be  silent ;  listen  to  me,  for  my  time  is  short.  When 
you  bade  me  call  you  "  husband  "  no  longer,  then  I  knew  that 
it  was  finished.  I  obey  you,  I  put  you  from  me,  you  are  no  more 
my  husband,  and  soon  I  shall  cease  to  be  your  wife  ;  still,  Teule, 
I  pray  you  listen  to  me.  Now  it  seems  to  you  in  your  sorrow, 
that  your  days  are  done  and  that  there  is  no  happiness  left 
for  you.  This  is  not  so.  You  are  still  but  a  man  in  the 
beginning  of  middle  age,  and  you  are  yet  strong.  You  will 
escape  from  this  ruined  land,  and  when  you  shake  the  dust 
of  it  off  your  feet  its  curse  shall  fall  from  you  ;  you  will  return 
to  your  own  place,  and  there  you  will  find  one  who  has  awaited 
your  coming  for  many  years.  There  the  savage  woman 
whom  you  mated  with,  the  princess  of  a  fallen  house,  will  be- 
come but  a  fantastic  memory  to  you,  and  all  these  strange 
eventful  years  will  be  as  a  midnight  dream.  Only  your  love 
for  the  dead  children  will  always  remain,  these  you  must  always 
love  by  day  and  by  night,  and  the  desire  of  them,  that  desire 
for  the  dead  than  which  there  is  nothing  more  terrible,  shall 
follow  you  to  your  grave,  and  I  am  glad  that  it  should  be  so, 
for  I  was  their  mother  and  some  thought  of  me  must  go  with 
them.  This  alone  'the  Lily  maid  has  left  to  me,  and  there 
only  I  shall  prevail  against  her,  for,  Teule,  no  child  of  hers 
shall  live  to  rob  your  heart  of  the  memory  of  those  I  gave  you. 

*  Oh  !  I  have  watched  you  by  day  and  by  night :  I  have 
seen  the  longing  in  your  eyes  for  a  face  which  you  have  lost 
and  for  the  land  of  your  youth.  Be  happy,  you  shall  gain 
both,  for  the  struggle  is  ended  and  the  Lily  maid  has  been 
too  strong  for  me.  I  grow  weak  and  I  have  little  more  to  say. 
We  part,  and  perhaps  for  ever,  for  what  is  there  between  us 
save  the  souls  of  those  dead  sons  of  ours  ?  Since  you  desire 
me  no  more,  that  I  may  make  our  severance  perfect,  now  in  the 
hour  of  my  death  I  renounce  your  gods  and  I  seek  my  own, 
though  I  think  that  I  love  yours  and  hate  those  of  my  people. 

x2 


3o8  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

Is  there  any  communion  between  them  ?  We  part,  and  per- 
chance for  ever,  yet  I  pray  of  you  to  think  of  me  kindly,  for  I 
have  loved  you  and  I  love  you ;  I  was  the  mother  of  your  chil- 
dren, whom  being  Christian,  you  will  meet  again.  I  love  you 
now  and  for  always.  I  am  glad  to  have  lived  because  you 
kissed  me  on  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  and  afterwards  I  bore  you 
sons.  They  are  yours  and  not  mine  ;  it  seems  to  me  now  that 
I  only  cared  for  them  because  they  were  yours,  and  they  loved 
you  and  not  me.  Take  them — take  their  spirits  as  you  have 
taken  everything.  You  swore  that  death  alone  should  sever  us, 
and  you  have  kept  your  oath  in  the  letter  and  in  the  thought. 
But  now  I  go  to  the  Houses  of  the  Sun  to  seek  my  own  people, 
and  to  you,  Teule,  with  whom  I  have  lived  many  years  and 
seen  much  sorrow,  but  whom  I  will  no  longer  call  husband, 
since  you  forbade  me  so  to  do,  I  say,  make  no  mock  of  me  to 
the  Lily  maid.  Speak  of  me  to  her  as  little  as  you  may — be 
happy  and — farewell !  ' 

Now  as  she  spoke  ever  more  faintly,  and  I  listened  be- 
wildered, the  light  of  dawn  grew  slowly  in  the  chamber.  It 
gathered  on  the  white  shape  of  Otomie  seated  in  a  chair  hard 
by  the  bed,  and  I  saw  that  her  arms  hung  down  and  that 
her  head  was  resting  on  the  back  of  the  chair.  Now  I  spram 
up  and  peered  into  her  face.  It  was  white  and  cold,  and  . 
could  feel  no  breath  upon  her  lips.  I  seized  her  hand,  thai 
also  was  cold.  I  spoke  into  her  ear,  I  kissed  her  brow,  bui 
she  did  not  move  nor  answer.  The  light  grew  quickly,  and 
now  I  saw  all.  Otomie  was  dead,  and  by  her  own  act. 

This  was  the  manner  of  her  death.  She  had  drunk  of  £ 
poison  of  which  the  Indians  have  the  secret,  a  poison  thai 
works  slowly  and  without  pain,  leaving  the  mind  uncloudec. 
to  the  end.  It  was  while  her  life  was  fading  from  her  that  sho 
had  spoken  to  me  thus  sadly  and  bitterly.  I  sat  upon  tho 
bed  and  gazed  at  her.  I  did  not  weep,  for  my  tears  wero 
done,  and  as  I  have  said,  whatever  I  might  feel  nothing 
could  break  my  calm  any  more.  And  as  I  gazed  a  great 
tenderness  and  sorrow  took  hold  of  me,  and  I  loved  Otonri«3 
better  now  that  she  was  dead  before  me  than  ever  I  had  done 
in  her  life  days,  and  this  is  saying  much.  I  remembered  her 
in  the  glory  of  her  youth  as  she  was  in  the  court  of  her  royal 
father,  I  remembered  the  look  which  she  had  given  me  when 
she  stepped  to  my  side  upon  the  stone  of  sacrifice,  and  that 
other  look  when  she  defied  Cuitlahua  the  emperor,  who  would 
have  slain  me.  Once  more  I  seemed  to  hear  her  cry  of  bitter 


OTOMIE'S  FAREWELL  3°9 

sorrow  as  she  uncovered  the  body  of  the  dead  babe  our  first- 
born, and  to  see  her  sword  in  hand  standing  over  the 
Tlascalan. 

Many  things  came  back  to  me  in  that  sad  hour  of  dawn 
while  I  watched  by  the  corpse  of  Otomie.  There  was  truth 
in  her  words,  I  had  never  forgotten  my  first  love  and  often  I 
desired  to  see  her  face.  But  it  was  not  true  to  say  that 
I  had  no  love  for  Otomie.  I  loved  her  well  and  I  was  faithful 
in  my  oath  to  her,  indeed,  not  until  she  was  dead  did  I  know 
how  dear  she  had  grown  to  me.  It  is  true  that  there  was  a 
great  gulf  between  us  which  widened  with  the  years,  the  gulf  of 
blood  and  faith,  for  I  knew  well  that  she  could  not  altogether 
put  away  her  old  beliefs,  and  it  is  true  that  when  I  saw  her 
leading  the  death  chant,  a  great  horror  took  me  and  for  a 
while  I  loathed  her.  But  these  things  I  might  have  lived  to 
forgive,  for  they  were  part  of  her  blood  and  nature,  moreover, 
the  last  and  worst  of  them  was  not  done  by  her  own  will,  and 
when  they  were  set  aside  there  remained  much  that  I  could 
honour  and  love  in  the  memory  of  this  most  royal  and  beautiful 
woman,  who  for  so  many  years  was  my  faithful  wife.  So  I 
thought  in  that  hour  and  so  I  think  to  this  day.  She  said  that 
we  parted  for  ever,  but  I  trust  and  I  believe  that  this  is  not  so. 
Surely  there  is  forgiveness  for  us  all,  and  a  place  where  those 
who  were  near  and  dear  to  each  other  on  the  earth  may  once 
more  renew  their  fellowship. 

At  last  I  rose  with  a  sigh  to  seek  help,  and  as  I  rose  I 
felt  that  there  was  something  set  about  my  neck.  It  was  the 
collar  of  great  emeralds  which  Guatemoc  had  given  to  me, 
and  that  I  had  given  to  Otomie.  She  had  set  it  there  while 
I  slept,  and  with  it  a  lock  of  her  long  hair.  Both  shall  be 
buried  with  me. 

« 

I  laid  her  in  the  ancient  Sepulchre  amid  the  bones  of  her 
forefathers  a,nd  by  the  bodies  of  her  children,  and  two  days 
later  I  rode  to  Mexico  in  the  train  of  Bernal  Diaz.  At  the 
mouth  of  the  pass  I  turned  and  looked  back  upon  the  ruins  of 
the  City  of  Pines,  where  I  had  lived  so  many  years  and  where 
ajl  I  loved  were  buried.  Long  and  earnestly  I  gazed,  as  in 
his  hour  of  death  a  man  looks  back  upon  his  past  life,  till  at 
length  Diaz  laid  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder  : 

*  You  are  a  lonely  man  now,  comrade,'  he  said ;  '  what 
plans  have  you  for  the  future  ?  ' 

'  None,'  I  answered,  '  except  to  die.' 

4  Never  talk  so,'  he  said ;  '  why,  you  are  scarcely  forty,  and 


310  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

I  who  am  fifty  and  more  do  not  speak  of  dying.     Listen :  you 
have  friends  in  your  own  country,  England  ?  ' 

1 1  had.' 

'  Folk  live  long  in  those  quiet  lands.  Go  seek  them,  I 
will  find  you  a  passage  to  Spain.' 

'  I  will  think  of  it,'  I  answered. 

In  time  we  came  to  Mexico,  a  new  and  a  strange  city  to 
me,  for  Cortes  had  rebuilt  it,  and  where  the  teocalli  had 
stood,  up  which  I  was  led  to  sacrifice,  a  cathedral  was 
building,  whereof  the  foundations  were  fitly  laid  with  the 
hideous  idols  of  the  Aztecs.  The  place  was  well  enough,  but 
it  is  not  so  beautiful  as  the  Tenoctitlan  of  Montezuma,  nor 
ever  will  be.  The  people  too  were  changed ;  then  they  were 
warriors  and  free,  now  they  are  slaves. 

In  Mexico  Diaz  found  me  a  lodging.  None  molested  me 
there,  for  the  pardon  that  I  had  received  was  respected. 
Also  I  was  a  ruined  man,  no  longer  to  be  feared,  the  part 
that  I  had  played  in  the  noche  triste  and  in  the  defence  of  the 
city  was  forgotten,  and  the  tale  of  my  sorrows  won  me  pit} 
even  from  the  Spaniards.  I  abode  in  Mexico  ten  days,  wan- 
dering sadly  about  the  city  and  up  to  the  hill  of  Chapoltepec 
where  Montezuma's  pleasure-house  had  been,  and  where  I  hac 
met  Otomie.  Nothing  was  left  of  its  glories  except  some  o: ' 
the  ancient  cedar  trees.  On  the  eighth  day  of  my  stay  ar 
Indian  stopped  me  in  the  street,  saying  that  an  old  frienc 
had  charged  him  to  say  that  she  wished  to  see  me. 

I  followed  the  Indian,  wondering  who  the  friend  might  be, 
for  I  had  no  friends,  and  he  led  me  to  a  fine  stone  house  in  t, 
new  street.  Here  I  was  seated  in  a  darkened  chamber  ant. 
waited  there  a  while,  till  suddenly  a  sad  and  sweet  voice  tha ; 
seemed  familiar  to  me,  addressed  me  in  the  Aztec  tongue, 
saying,  '  Welcome,  Teule.' 

I  looked  and  there  before  me,  dressed  in  the  Spanish 
fashion,  stood  a  lady,  an  Indian,  still  beautiful,  but  very 
feeble  and  much  worn,  as  though  with  sickness  and  sorrow.' 

1  Do  you  not  know  Marina,  Teule  ? '  she  said  again,  but 
before  the  words  had  left  her  lips  I  knew  her.  '  Well,  I  will 
say  this,  that  I  should  scarcely  have  known  you,  Teule. 
Trouble  and  time  have  done  their  work  with  both  of  us.' 

I  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it. 

'  Where  then  is  Cortes  ?  '  I  asked. 
Now  a  great  trembling  seized  her. 

'  Cortes  is  in  Spain,  pleading  his  suit.  He  has  wed  a  new 
wife  there,  Teule.  Many  years  ago  he  put  me  away,  giving 


OTOMIE*S  FAREWELL  311 

me  in  marriage  to  Don  Juan  Xaramillo,  who  took  me 
because  of  my  possessions,  for  Cortes  dealt  liberally  with  me, 
his  discarded  mistress.'  And  she  began  to  weep. 

Then  by  degrees  I  learned  the  story,  but  I  will  not  write 
it  here,  for  it  is  known  to  the  world.  When  Marina  had 
served  his  turn  and  her  wit  was  of  no  more  service  to  him, 
the  conqueror  discarded  her,  leaving  her  to  wither  of  a  broken 
heart.  She  told  me  all  the  tale  of  her  anguish  when  she 
learned  the  truth,  and  of  how  she  had  cried  to  him  that 
thenceforth  he  would  never  prosper.  Nor  indeed  did  he 
do  so. 

For  two  hours  or  more  we  talked,  and  when  I  had  heard 
her  story  I  told  her  mine,  and  she  wept  for  me,  since  with  all 
her  faults  Marina's  heart  was  ever  gentle. 

Then  we  parted  never  to  meet  again.  Before  I  went  she 
pressed  a  gift  of  money  on  me,  and  I  was  not  ashamed  to  take 
it  who  had  none. 

This  then  was  the  history  of  Marina,  who  betrayed  her 
country  for  her  love's  sake,  and  this  the  reward  of  her  treason 
and  her  love.  But  I  shall  always  hold  her  memory  sacred, 
for  she  was  a  good  friend  to  me,  and  twice  she  saved  my  life, 
nor  would  she  desert  me,  even  when  Otomie  taunted  her  so 
cruelly. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

THOMAS  COMES  BACK  FROM  THE  DEAD 

Now  on  the  morrow  of  my  visit  to  Marina,  the  Captain  Diaz 
came  to  see  me  and  told  me  that  a  friend  of  his  was  in  command 
of  a  carak  which  was  due  to  sail  from  the  port  of  Vera  Cruz  for 
Cadiz  within  ten  days,  and  that  this  friend  was  willing  to  give 
me  a  passage  if  I  wished  to  leave  Mexico.  I  thought  for  a 
while  and  said  that  I  would  go,  and  that  very  night,  having 
bid  farewell  to  the  Captain  Diaz,  whom  may  God  prosper,  for 
he  was  a  good  man  among  many  bad  ones,  I  set  out  from 
the  city  for  the  last  time  in  the  company  of  some  merchants. 
A  week's  journey  took  us  safely  down  the  mountains  to  Vera 
Cruz,  a  hot  unhealthy  town  with  an  indifferent  anchorage, 
much  exposed  to  the  fierce  northerly  winds.  Here  I  presented 
my  letters  of  recommendation  to  the  commander  of  the  carak, 
who  gave  me  passage  without  question,  I  laying  in  a  stock  of 
food  for  the  journey. 


312  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 


Three  nights  later  we  set  sail  with  a  fair  wind,  and  on 
the  following  morning  at  daybreak  all  that  was  left  in  sight 
of  the  land  of  Anahuac  was  the  snowy  crest  of  the  volcan 
Orizaba.  Presently  that  vanished  into  the  clouds,  and  thus 
did  I  bid  farewell  to  the  far  country  where  so  many  things 
had  happened  to  me,  and  which  according  to  my  reckoning  I 
had  first  sighted  on  this  very  day  eighteen  years  before. 

Of  my  journey  to  Spain  I  have  nothing  of  note  to  tell.  It 
was  more  prosperous  than  such  voyages  often  are,  and  within 
ten  weeks  of  the  date  of  our  lifting  anchor  at  Vera  Cruz,  we 
let  it  drop  in  the  harbour  of  Cadiz.  Here  I  sojourned  but  two 
days,  for  as  it  chanced  there  was  an  English  ship  in  the 
harbour  trading  to  London,  and  in  her  1  took  a  passage, 
though  I  was  obliged  to  sell  the  smallest  of  the  emeralds  from 
the  necklace  to  find  the  means  to  do  so,  the  money  that 
Marina  gave  me  being  spent.  This  emerald  sold  for  a  great 
sum,  however,  with  part  of  which  I  purchased  clothing  suitable 
to  a  person  of  rank,  taking  the  rest  of  the  gold  with  me.  ] 
grieved  to  part  with  the  stone  indeed,  though  it  was  but  a 
pendant  to  the  pendant  of  the  collar,  but  necessity  knows  nc 
law.  The  pendant  stone  itself,  a  fine  gem  though  flawed,  ] 
gave  in  after  years  to  her  gracious  majesty  Queen  Elizabeth. 

On  board  the  English  ship  they  thought  me  a  Spanish 
adventurer  who  had  made  moneys  in  the  Indies,  and  I  did 
not  undeceive  them,  since  I  would  be  left  to  my  own  compan} 
for  a  while  that  I  might  prepare  my  mind  to  return  to  ways 
of  thought  and  life  that  it  had  long  forgotten.  Therefore  ] 
sat  apart  like  some  proud  don,  saying  little  but  listening  much 
and  learning  all  I  could  of  what  had  chanced  in  England 
since  I  left  it  some  twenty  years  before. 

At  length  our  voyage  came  to  an  end,  and  on  a  certair. 
twelfth  of  June  I  found  myself  in  the  mighty  city  of  London 
that  I  had  never  yet  visited,  and  kneeling  down  in  the 
chamber  of  my  inn,  I  thanked  God  that  after  enduring  so 
many  dangers  and  hardships,  it  had  pleased  Him  to  preserve; 
me  to  set  foot  again  on  English  soil.  Indeed  to  this  hour  1 
count  it  nothing  short  of  marvellous  that  this  frail  body  of  & 
man  should  survive  all  the  sorrows  and  risks  of  death  by  sick- 
ness, hunger,  battle,  murder,  drowning,  wild  beasts,  and  the 
cruelty  of  men,  to  which  mine  had  been  exposed  for  many  years. 

In  London  I  bought  a  good  horse,  through  the  kind  officer 
of  the  host  of  my  inn,  and  on  the  morrow  at  daybreak  I 
set  out  upon  the  Ipswich  road.  That  very  morning  my  lasl; 


THOMAS   COMES  BACK  FROM  THE  DEAD    313 

adventure  befell  me,  for  as  I  jogged  along  musing  of  the  beauty 
of  the  English  landscape  and  drinking  in  the  sweet  air  of 
June,  a  cowardly  thief  fired  a  pistol  at  me  from  behind  a 
hedge,  purposing  to  plunder  me  if  I  fell.  The  bullet  passed 
through  my  hat,  grazing  the  skull,  but  before  I  could  do  any- 
thing the  rascal  fled,  seeing  that  he  had  missed  his  mark,  and  I 
went  on  my  journey,  thinking  to  myself  that  it  would  indeed 
have  been  strange,  if  after  passing  such  great  dangers  in  safety, 
I  had  died  at  last  by  the  hand  of  a  miserable  footpad  within 
five  miles  of  London  town. 

I  rode  hard  all  that  day  and  the  next,  and  my  horse  being 
stout  and  swift,  by  half-past  seven  o'clock  of  the  evening  I 
pulled  up  upon  the  little  hill  whence  I  had  looked  my  last  on 
Bungay,  when  I  rode  thence  for  Yarmouth  with  my  father. 
Below  me  lay  the  red  roofs  of  the  town  ;  there  to  the  right 
were  the  oaks  of  Ditchingham  and  the  beautiful  tower  of  St. 
Mary's  Church,  yonder  the  stream  of  Waveney  wandered,  and 
before  me  stretched  the  meadow  lands,  purple  and  golden  with 
marsh  weeds  in  bloom.  All  was  as  it  had  been,  I  could  see  no 
change  at  all,  the  only  change  was  in  myself.  I  dismounted, 
and  going  to  a  pool  of  water  near  the  roadway  I  looked  at  tin- 
reflection  of  my  own  face.  I  was  changed  indeed,  scarcely 
should  I  have  known  it  for  that  of  the  lad  who  had  ridden  up 
this  hill  some  twenty  years  ago.  Now7,  alas!  the  eyes  were 
sunken  and  very  sorrowful,  the  features  were  sharp,  and  there 
was  more  grey  than  black  in  the  beard  and  hair.  I  should 
scarcely  have  known  it  myself,  would  any  others  know  it, 
I  wondered  ?  Would  there  be  any  to  know  it  indeed  ?  In 
twenty  years  many  die  and  others  pass  out  of  sight ;  should 
I  find  a  friend  at  all  among  the  living  ?  Since  I  read  the 
letters  which  Captain  Bell  of  the  '  Adventuress  '  had  brought 
me  before  I  sailed  for  Hispaniola,  I  had  heard  no  tidings  from 
my  home,  and  what  tidings  awaited  me  now?  Above  all 
what  of  Lily,  was  she  dead  or  married  or  gone  ? 

Mounting  my  horse  I  pushed  on  again  at  a  canter,  taking 
the  road  past  Waingford  Mills  through  the  fords  and  Pirnhow 
town,  leaving  Bungay  upon  my  left.  In  ten  minutes  I  was  at 
the  gate  of  the  bridle  path  that  runs  from  the  Norwich  road 
for  half  a  mile  or  more  beneath  the  steep  and  wooded  bank 
under  the  shelter  of  which  stands  the  Lodge  at  Ditchingham. 
By  the  gate  a  man  loitered  in  the  last  rays  of  the  sun.  I  looked 
at  him  and  knew  him  ;  it  was  Billy  Minns,  that  same  fool  who 
had  loosed  de  Garcia  when  I  left  him  bound  that  I  might  run 
to  meet  my  sweetheart.  He  was  an  old  man  now  and  his  white 


3f4  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

hair  hung  about  his  withered  face,  moreover  he  was  unclean 
and  dressed  in  rags,  but  I  could  have  fallen  011  his  neck  and 
embraced  him,  so  rejoiced  was  I  to  look  once  more  on  one 
whom  I  had  known  in  youth. 

Seeing  me  come  he  hobbled  on  his  stick  to  the  gate  to 
open  it  for  me,  whining  a  prayer  for  alms. 

'  Does  Mr.  Wingfield  live  here  ? '  I  said,  pointing  up  the 
path,  and  my  breath  came  quick  as  I  asked. 

'  Mr.  Wingfield,  sir,  Mr.  Wingfield,  which  of  them  ?  '  he 
answered.  '  The  old  gentleman  he's  been  dead  nigh  upon 
twenty  years.  I  helped  to  dig  his  grave  in  the  chancel  cd 
yonder  church  I  did,  we  laid  him  by  his  wife — her  that  was 
murdered.  Then  there's  Mr.  Geoffrey.' 

'  What  of  him  ?  '  I  asked. 

'  He's  dead,  too,  twelve  year  gone  or  more  ;  he  drank  hissel: 
to  dead  he  did.     And  Mr.  Thomas,  he's  dead,  drowned  ovei 
seas  they  say,  many  a  winter  back  ;  they're  all  dead,  all  dead 
Ah !  he  was  a  rare  one,  Mr.  Thomas  was ;  I  mind  me  wel 

how  when  I  let  the  furriner  go '  and  he  rambled  off  ink 

the  tale  of  how  he  had  set  de  Garcia  on  his  horse  after  I  hac 
beaten  him,  nor  could  I  bring  him  back  from  it. 

Casting  him  a  piece  of  money,  I  set  spurs  to  my  weary 
horse  and  cantered  up  the  bridle  path,  leaving  the  Mill  Houso 
on  my  left,  and  as  I  went,  the  beat  of  his  hoofs  seemed  to  echo 
the  old  man's  words,  'All  dead,  all  dead!  '  Doubtless  Lily 
was  dead  also,  or  if  she  was  not  dead,  when  the  tidings  camo 
that  I  had  been  drowned  at  sea,  she  would  have  married.  Be  • 
ing  so  fair  and  sweet  she  would  surely  not  have  lacked  f o  • 
suitors,  nor  could  it  be  believed  that  she  had  worn  her  lifo 
away  mourning  over  the  lost  love  of  her  youth. 

Now  the  Lodge  was  before  me;  it  had  changed  no  whib 
except  that  the  ivy  a-nd  creepers  on  its  front  had  grown  higher, 
to   the   roof    indeed,   and  I  could    see  that  people  lived  in 
the  house,  for  it  was  well  kept,  and  smoke  hung  above  thf 
chimneys.     The  gate  was  locked,  and  there  were  no  serving 
men  about,  for  night  fell  fast,  and  all  had  ceased  from  theii 
labour.    Leaving  the  house  on  the  right  I  passed  round  it  to  th< 
stables  that  are  at  the  back  near  the  hillside  garden,  but  here 
the  gate  was  locked  also,  and  I  dismounted  not  knowing  wha 
to  do.     Indeed  I  was  so  unmanned  with  fear  and  doubt  tha.t 
for  a  while  I  seemed  bewildered,  and  leaving  the  horse  to  cro| 
the  grass  where  he  stood,  I  wandered  to  the  foot  of  the  churcl 
path  and  gazed  up  the  hill  as  though  I  waited  for  the  coining 
of  one  whom  I  should  meet, 


THOMAS  COMES  BACK  FROM  THE  DEAD    315 

'  What  if  they  were  all  dead,  what  if  she  were  dead  and 
gone  ? '  I  buried  my  face  in  my  hands  and  prayed  to  the 
Almighty  who  had  protected  me  through  so  many  years,  to 
spare  me  this  last  bitterness.  I  was  crushed  with  sorrow,  and 
I  felt  that  I  could  bear  no  more.  If  Lily  were  lost  to  me 
also,  then  I  thought  that  it  would  be  best  that  I  should  die, 
since  there  was  nothing  left  for  which  I  cared  to  live. 

Thus  I  prayed  for  some  while,  trembling  like  a  leaf,  and 
when  I  looked  up  again,  ere  I  turned  to  seek  tidings  from  those 
that  dwelt  in  the  house,  whoever  they  might  be,  the  twilight 
had  fallen  completely,  and  lo  !  nightingales  sang  both  far  and 
near.  I  listened  to  their  song,  and  as  1  listened,  some  troubled 
memory  came  back  to  me  that  at  first  I  could  not  grasp.  Then 
suddenly  there  rose  up  in  my  mind  a  vision  of  the  splendid 
chamber  in  Montezuma's  palace  in  Tenoctitlan,  and  of  myself 
sleeping  on  a  golden  bed,  and  dreaming  on  that  bed.  I  knew 
it  now,  I  was  the  god  Tezcat,  and  on  the  morrow  I  must  be 
sacrificed,  and  I  slept  in  misery,  and  as  I  slept  I  dreamed.  I 
dreamed  that  I  stood  where  I  stood  this  night,  that  the  scent 
of  the  English  flowers  was  in  my  nostrils  as  it  was  this  night, 
and  that  the  sweet  song  of  the  nightingales  rang  in  my  ears 
as  at  this  present  hour.  I  dreamed  that  as  I  mused  and 
listened  the  moon  came  up  over  the  green  ash  and  oaks,  and 
lo  !  there  she  shone.  I  dreamed  that  I  heard  a  sound  of  sing- 
ing on  the  hill 

But  now  I  awoke  from  this  vision  of  the  past  and  of  a  long- 
lost  dream,  for  as  I  stood  the  sweet  voice  of  a  woman  began 
to  sing  yonder  on  the  brow  of  the  slope  ;  I  was  not  mad,  I  heard 
it  clearly,  and  the  sound  grew  ever  nearer  as  the  singer  drew 
down  the  steep  hillside.  It  was  so  near  now  that  I  could 
catch  the  very  words  of  that  sad  song  which  to  this  day  I 
remember. 

Now  I  could  see  the  woman's  shape  in  the  moonlight ;  it 
was  tall  and  stately  and  clad  in  a  white  robe.  Presently  she 
lifted  her  head  to  watch  the  flitter  of  a  bat  and  the  moonlight 
lit  upon  her  face.  It  was  the  face  of  Lily  Bozard,  my  lost  love, 
beautiful  as  of  yore,  though  grown  older  and  stamped  with 
the  seal  of  some  great  sorrow.  I  saw,  and  so  deeply  was  I 
stirred  at  the  sight,  that  had  it  not  been  for  the  low  paling  to 
which  I  clung,  I  must  have  fallen  to  the  earth,  and  a  deep 
groan  broke  from  my  lips. 

She  heard  the  groan  and  ceased  her  song,  then  catching 
sight  of  the  figure  of  a  man,  she  stopped  and  turned  as  though 
to  fly.  I  stood  quite  still,  and  wonder  overcoming  her  fear,  she 


3i6  MONTEZUMA*S  DAUGHTER 

drew  nearer  and  spoke  in  the  sweet  low  voice  that  I  re- 
membered well,  saying,  'Who  wanders  here  so  late?  Is  it 
you,  John  ? ' 

Now  when  I  heard  her  speak  thus  a  new  fear  took  me. 
Doubtless  she  was  married  and  *  John  '  was  her  husband.  I 
had  found  her  but  to  lose  her  more  completely.  Of  a  sudden 
it  came  into  my  mind  that  I  would  not  discover  myself  till  I 
knew  the  truth.  I  advanced  a  pace,  but  not  so  far  as  to  pass 
from  the  shadow  of  the  shrubs  which  grow  here,  and  taking 
my  stand  in  such  a  fashion  that  the  moonlight  did  not  strike 
upon  my  face,  I  bowed  low  in  the  courtly  Spanish  fashion, 
and  disguising  my  voice  spoke  as  a  Spaniard  might  in  broken 
English  which  I  will  spare  to  write  down. 

'  Madam,'  I  said,  *  have  I  the  honour  to  speak  to  one  who 
in  bygone  years  was  named  the  Senora  Lily  Bozard  ? ' 

*  That  was  my  name,'  she  answered.     *  What  is  your  erranc 
with  me,  sir  ?  ' 

Now  I  trembled  afresh,  but  spoke  on  boldly. 

'  Before  I  answer,  Madam,  forgive  me  if  I  ask  anothe:  - 
question.  Is  this  still  your  name  ?  ' 

'  It  is  still  my  name,  I  am  no  married  woman,'  she  answered, 
and  for  a  moment  the  sky  seemed  to  reel  above  me  and  thu 
ground  to  heave  beneath  my  feet  like  the  lava  crust  of  Xaca. 
But  as  yet  I  did  not  reveal  myself,  for  I  wished  to  learn  if  sh  j 
still  loved  my  memory. 

*  Senora,'  I  said,  '  I  am   a    Spaniard  who  served  in  th  3 
Indian  wars  of  Cortes,  of  which  perhaps  you  have  heard.' 

She  bowed  her  head  and  I  went  on.  '  In  those  wars  I  met 
a  man  who  was  named  Teule,  but  who  had  another  name  in 
former  days,  so  he  told  me  on  his  deathbed  some  two  year  3 
ago.' 

*  What  name  ? '  she  asked  in  a  low  voice. 
'  Thomas  Wingfield.' 

Now  Lily  moaned  aloud,  and  in  her  turn  caught  at  the 
pales  to  save  herself  from  falling. 

1 1  deemed  him  dead  these  eighteen  years,'  she  gasped ; 
*  drowned  in  the  Indian  seas  where  his  vessel  foundered.' 

'  I  have  heard  say  that  he  was  shipwrecked  in  those  seas, 
senora,  but  he  escaped  death  and  fell  among  the  Indians,  who 
made  a  god  of  him  and  gave  him  the  daughter  of  their  king 
in  marriage,'  and  I  paused. 

She  shivered,  then  said  in  a  hard  voice,  '  Continue,  sir ;  I 
listen  to  you.' 

*  My  friend  Teule  took  the  part  of  the  Indians  in  the  war  5, 


THOMAS  COMES  BACK  FROM   THE  DEAD    317 

as  being  the  husband  of  one  of  their  princesses  he  must  do  in 
honour,  and  fought  bravely  for  them  for  many  years.  At 
length  the  town  that  he  defended  was  captured,  his  one  remain- 
ing child  was  murdered,  his  wife  the  princess  slew  herself  for 
sorrow,  and  he  himself  was  taken  into  captivity,  where  he 
languished  and  died.' 

1  A  sad  tale,  sir,'  she  said  with  a  little  laugh — a  mournful 
laugh  that  was  half  choked  by  tears. 

*  A  very  sad  tale,  seiiora,  but  one  which  is  not  finished. 
While  he  lay  dying,  my  friend  told  me  that  in  his  early  life 
he  had  plighted  troth  with  a  certain  English  maid,  named ' 

'  I  know  the  name — continue.' 

*  He  told  me  that  though  he  had  been  wedded,  and  loved 
his  wife  the  princess,  who  was  a  very  royal  woman,  that  many 
times  had  risked  her  life  for  his,  ay,  even  to  lying  at  his  side 
upon  the  stone  of  sacrifice  and  of  her  own  free  will,  yet  the 
memory  of  this  maiden  to  whom  he  was  once  betrothed  had 
companioned  him  through  life  and  was  strong  upon  him  now 
at  its  close.     Therefore  he  prayed  me  for  our  friendship's  sake 
to  seek  her  out  when  I  returned  to  Europe,  should  she  still 
live,  and  to  give  her  a  message  from  him,  and  to  make  a 
prayer  to  her  on  his  behalf.' 

'  What  message  and  what  prayer  ?  '  Lily  whispered. 

'  This  :  that  he  loved  her  at  the  end  of  his  life  as  he  had 
loved  her  at  its  beginning  ;  that  he  humbly  prayed  her  forgive- 
ness because  he  had  broken  the  troth  which  they  two  swore 
beneath  the  beech  at  Ditchingham.' 

'  Sir,'  she  cried,  '  what  do  you  know  of  that  ?  ' 

1  Only  what  my  friend  told  me,  seiiora.' 

1  Your  friendship  must  have  been  close  and  your  memory 
must  be  good,'  she  murmured. 

' Which  he  had  done,'  I  went  on,  *  under  strange  circum- 
stances, so  strange  indeed  that  he  dared  to  hope  that  his 
broken  troth  might  be  renewed  in  some  better  world  than 
this.  His  last  prayer  was  that  she  should  say  to  me,  his 
messenger,  that  she  forgave  him  and  still  loved  him,  as  to 
his  death  he  loved  her.' 

1  And  how  can  such  forgiveness  or  such  an  avowal  advan- 
tage a  dead  man  ?  '  Lily  asked,  watching  me  keenly  through 
the  shadows.  '  Have  the  dead  then  eyes  to  see  and  ears  to 
hear  ?  ' 

'  How  can  I  know,  senora  ?     I  do  but  execute  my  mission.' 

'  And  how  can  I  know  that  you  are  a  true  messenger.  It 
chanced  that  I  had  sure  tidings  of  the  drowning  of  Thomas 


318  MONTEZUMA^S  DAUGHTER 

Wingfield  many  years  ago,  and  this  tale  of  Indians  and  prin- 
cesses is  wondrous  strange,  more  like  those  that  happen  ir 
romances  than  in  this  plain  world.  Have  you  no  token  o: 
your  good  faith,  sir  ?  ' 

*  I  have  such  a  token,  senora,  but  the  light  is  too  faint  foi 
you  to  see  it.' 

'  Then  follow  me  to  the  house,  there  we  will  get  light 
Stay,'  and  once  more  going  to  the  stable  gate,  she  callec 
'John.' 

•    An  old  man  answered  her,  and  I  knew  the  voice  for  that  o: 
one  of  my  father's  serving  men.     To  him  she  spoke  in  lov 
tones,  then  led  the  way  by  the  garden  path  to  the  front  dooi 
of  the  house,  which  she  opened  with  a  key  from  her  girdle 
motioning  to  me  to  pass  in  before  her.     I  did  so,  and  thinking 
little  of  such  matters  at  the  moment,  turned  by  habit  into  th< 
doorway  of  the  sitting-room  which  I  knew  so  well,  lifting  nr< 
feet  to  avoid  stumbling  on  its  step,  and  passing  into  the  roon 
found  my  way  through  the  gloom  to  the  wide  fireplace  when 
I  took  my  stand.     Lily  watched  me  enter,  then  following  me , 
she  lit  a  taper  at  the  fire  which  smouldered  on  the  hearth,  and 
placed  it  upon  the  table  in  the  window  in  such  fashion  tha ; 
though  I  was  now  obliged  to  take  off  my  hat,  my  face  was  stil  I 
in  shadow. 

'  Now,  sir,  your  token  if  it  pleases  you/ 

Then  I  drew  the  posy  ring  from  my  finger  and  gave  it  t<  > 
her,  and  she  sat  down  by  the  table  and  examined  it  in  the  ligh  D 
of  the  candle,  and  as  she  sat  thus,  I  saw  how  beautiful  she  wa; ; 
still,  and  how  little  time  had  touched  her,  except  for  the  sad  - 
ness  of  her  face,  though  now  she  had  seen  eight-and-thirt/ 
winters.  I  saw  also  that  though  she  kept  control  of  her 
features  as  she  looked  upon  the  ring,  her  breast  heaved 
quickly  and  her  hand  shook. 

1  The  token  is  a  true  one,'  she  said  at  length.  'I  know 
the  ring,  though  it  is  somewhat  worn  since  last  I  saw  it,  it 
was  my  mother's  ;  and  many  years  ago  I  gave  it  as  a  love  gage 
to  a  youth  to  whom  I  promised  myself  in  marriage.  Doubtless 
all  your  tale  is  true  also,  sir,  and  I  thank  you  for  your 
courtesy  in  bringing  it  so  far.  It  is  a  sad  tale,  a  very  sai 
tale.  And  now,  sir,  as  I  may  not  ask  you  to  stay  Li 
this  house  where  I  live  alone,  and  there  is  no  inn  near, 
I  propose  to  send  serving  men  to  conduct  you  to  my 
brother's  dwelling  that  is  something  more  than  a  mile  away, 
if  indeed,'  she  added  slowly,  '  you  do  not  already  know  the 
path  !  There  you  will  find  entertainment,  and  there  the 


THOMAS  COMES  BACK  FROM  THE  DEAD  3i9 

sister  of  your  dead  companion,  Mary  Bozard,  will  be  glad  to 
learn  the  story  of  his  strange  adventures  from  your  lips.' 

I  bowed  my  head  and  answered,  '  First,  senora,  I  would 
pray  your  answer  to  my  friend's  dying  prayer  and  message.' 
'  It  is  childish  to  send  answers  to  the  dead.' 
'  Still  I  pray  for  them  as  I  was  charged  to  do.' 
'  How  reads  the  writing  within  this  ring,  sir  ?  ' 

*  Heart  to  heart, 
Though  far  apart? 

I  said  glibly,  and  next  instant  I  could  have  bitten  out  my 
tongue.- 

1  Ah !  you  know  that  also,  but  doubtless  you  have  carried 
the  ring  for  many  months  and  learned  the  writing.  Well, 
sir,  though  we  were  far  apart,  and  though  perchance  I 
cherished  the  memory  of  him  who  wore  this  ring,  and  for  his 
sake  remained  unwed,  it  seems  that  his  heart  went  a  straying  - 
to  the  breast  indeed  of  some  savage  woman  whom  he  married, 
and  who  bore  him  children.  That  being  so,  my  answer  to  the 
prayer  of  your  dead  friend  is  that  I  forgive  him  indeed,  but  I 
must  needs  take  back  the  vows  which  I  swore  to  him  for  this 
life  and  for  ever,  since  he  has  broken  them,  and  as  best  I 
may,  strive  to  cast  out  the  love  I  bore  him  since  he  rejected 
and  dishonoured  it,'  and  standing  up  Lily  made  as  though 
she  tore  at  her  breast  and  threw  something  from  her,  and  at 
the  same  time  she  let  fall  the  ring  upon  the  floor. 

I  heard  and  my  heart  stood  still.  So  this  was  the  end  of 
it.  Well,  she  had  the  right  of  me,  though  now  I  began  to 
wish  that  I  had  been  less  honest;  for  sometimes  women  can 
forgive  a  lie  sooner  than  such  frankness.  I  said  nothing,  my 
tongue  was  tied,  but  a  great  misery  and  weariness  entered  into 
me.  Stooping  down  I  found  the  ring,  and  replacing  it  on  my 
finger,  I  turned  to  seek  the  door  with  a  last  glance  at  the 
woman  who  refused  me.  Halfway  thither  I  paused  for  one 
second,  wondering  if  I  should  do  well  to  declare  myself, 
then  bethought  me  that  if  she  would  not  abate  her  anger 
toward  me  dead,  her  pity  for  me  living  would  be  small. 
Nay,  I  was  dead  to  her,  and  dead  I  would  remain. 

Now  I  was  at  the  door  and  my  foot  was  on  its  step,  when 
suddenly  a  voice,  Lily's  voice,  sounded  in  my  ears  and  it  was 
sweet  and  kind. 

'  Thomas,'  said  the  voice,  *  Thomas,  before  you  go,  will  you 
not  take  count  of  the  gold  and  goods  and  land  that  you  placed 
in  my  keeping  ?  ' 


320  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

Now  I  turned  amazed,  and  lo  !  Lily  came  towards  me 
slowly  and  with  outstretched  arms. 

'  Oh  !  foolish  man,'  she  whispered  low,  *  did  you  think  to 
deceive  a  woman's  heart  thus  clumsily  ?  You  who  talked  of 
the  beech  in  the  Hall  garden,  you  who  found  your  way  so  well 
to  this  dark  chamber,  and  spoke  the  writing  in  the  ring  with 
the  very  voice  of  one  who  has  been  dead  so  long.  Listen  :  I 
forgive  that  friend  of  yours  his  broken  troth,  for  he  was  honest 
in  the  telling  of  his  fault  and  it  is  hard  for  man  to  live  alone 
so  many  years,  and  in  strange  countries  come  strange  adven- 
tures ;  moreover,  I  will  say  it,  I  still  love  him  as  it  seems 
that  he  loves  me,  though  in  truth  I  grow  somewhat  old  for 
love,  who  have  lingered  long  waiting  to  find  it  beyond  my 
grave.' 

Thus  Lily  spoke,  sobbing  as  she  spoke,  then  my  arms 
closed  round  her  and  she  said  no  more.  And  yet  as  our  lips  met 
I  thought  of  Otomie,  remembering  her  words,  and  remembering 
also  that  she  had  died  by  her  own  hand  on  this  very  day  a 
year  ago. 

Let  us  pray  that  the  dead  have  no  vision  of  the  living ! 


CHAPTER  XL 

AMEN 

AND  now  there  is  little  left  for  me  to  tell  and  my  tale  draw? 
to  its  end,  for  which  I  am  thankful,  for  I  am  very  old  anc 
writing  is  a  weariness  to  me,  so  great  a  weariness  indeed  tha  . 
many  a  time  during  the  past  winter  I  have  been  near  to 
abandoning  the  task. 

For  a  while  Lily  and  I  sat  almost  silent  in  this  same  room 
where  I  write  to-day,  for  our  great  joy  and  many  another  emo 
tion  that  was  mixed  with  it,  clogged  our  tongues.  Then  as 
though  moved  by  one  impulse,  we  knelt  down  and  offered  ou:.1 
humble  thanks  to  heaven  that  had  preserved  us  both  to  thiu 
strange  meeting.  Scarcely  had  we  risen  from  our  knees  when 
there  was  a  stir  without  the  house,  and  presently  a  buxom 
dame  entered,  followed  by  a  gallant  gentleman,  a  lad,  and  a 
maiden.  These  were  my  sister  Mary,  her  husband  Wilfred 
Bozard,  Lily's  brother,  and  their  two  surviving  children,  Boge:: 
and  Joan.  When  she  guessed  that  it  was  I  come  home  again 
and  no  other,  Lily  had  sent  them  tidings  by  the  servant  man 
John,  that  one  was  with  her  whom  she  believed  they  would 


AMEN  321 

be  glad  to  see,  and  they  had  hurried  hither,  not  knowing  whom 
they  should  find.  Nor  were  they  much  the  wiser  at  rirst,  for 
I  was  much  changed  and  the  light  in  the  room  shone  dim, 
but  stood  perplexed,  wondering  who  this  stranger  might  be. 

'  Mary,'  I  said  at  length,  '  Mary,  do  you  not  remember  me, 
my  sister  ? ' 

Then  she  cried  aloud,  and  throwing  herself  into  my  arms, 
she  wept  there  a  while,  as  would  any  of  us  were  our  beloved 
dead  suddenly  to  appear  before  our  eyes,  alive  and  well,  and 
her  husband  clasped  me  by  the  hand  and  swore  heartily  in  his 
amazement,  as  is  the  fashion  of  some  men  when  they  are 
moved.  But  the  children  stood  staring  blankly  till  I  called 
the  girl  to  me,  who  now  was  much  what  her  mother  had 
been  when  we  parted,  and  kissing  her,  told  her  that  I  was 
that  uncle  of  whom  perhaps  she  had  heard  as  dead  many 
years  ago. 

Then  my  horse,  that  all  this  while  had  been  forgotten, 
having  been  caught  and  stabled,  we  went  to  supper  and  it 
was  a  strange  meal  to  me,  and  after  meat  I  asked  for  tidings. 
Now  I  learned  that  the  fortune  which  my  old  master  Fonseca 
had  left  to  me  came  home  in  safety,  and  that  it  had  prospered 
exceedingly  under  Lily's  care,  for  she  had  spent  but  very 
little  of  it  for  her  maintenance,  looking  on  it  always  as  a  trust 
rather  than  as  her  own.  When  my  death  seemed  certain  my 
sister  Mary  had  entered  on  her  share  of  my  possessions, 
however,  and  with  it  had  purchased  some  outlying  lands  in 
Earsham  and  Hedenham,  and  the  wood  and  manor  of  Tyndale 
Hall  in  Ditchingham  and  Broome.  These  lands  I  made  haste 
to  say  she  might  keep  as  a  gift  from  me,  since  it  seemed  that 
I  had  greater  riches  than  I  could  need  without  them,  and  this 
saying  of  mine  pleased  her  husband  Wilfred  Bozard  not  a 
little,  seeing  that  it  is  hard  for  a  man  to  give  up  what  he  has 
held  for  many  years. 

Then  I  heard  the  rest  of  the  story  ;  of  my  father's  sudden 
death,  of  how  the  coming  of  the  gold  had  saved  Lily  from 
being  forced  into  marriage  with  my  brother  Geoffrey,  who 
afterwards  had  taken  to  evil  courses  which  ended  in  his  decease 
at  the  age  of  thirty-one  ;  of  the  end  of  Squire  Bozard,  Lily's 
father  and  my  old  enemy,  from  an  apoplexy  which  took  him 
in  a  sudden  tit  of  anger.  After  this  it  seemed,  her  brother 
being  married  to  my  sister  Mary,  Lily  had  moved  down  to  the 
Lodge,  having  paid  off  the  charges  that  my  brother  Geoffrey 
had  heaped  upon  his  heritage,  and  bought  out  my  sister's 
rights  to  it.  And  here  at  the  Lodge  she  had  lived  ever  since, 

Y 


322  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

a  sad  and  lonely  woman,  and  yet  not  altogether  an  unhappy 
one,  for  she  gave  much  of  her  time  to  good  works.  Indeed 
she  told  me  that  had  it  not  been  for  the  wide  lands  and 
moneys  which  she  must  manage  as  my  heiress,  she  would  have 
betaken  herself  to  a  sisterhood,  there  to  wear  her  life  away  in 
peace,  since  I  being  lost  to  her,  and  indeed  dead,  as  she  was 
assured, — for  the  news  of  the  wreck  of  the  carak  found  its 
way  to  Ditchingham, — she  no  longer  thought  of  marriage, 
though  more  than  one  gentleman  of  condition  had  sought  her 
hand.  This,  with  some  minor  matters,  such  as  the  birth  and 
death  of  children,  and  the  story  of  the  great  storm  and  flood 
that  smote  Bungay,  and  indeed  the  length  of  the  vale  oi 
Waveney  in  those  days,  was  all  the  tale  that  they  had  to  tell  whc 
had  grown  from  youth  to  middle  age  in  quiet.  For  of  tht 
crowning  and  end  of  kings  and  of  matters  politic,  such  as  the 
downfall  of  the  power  of  the  Pope  of  Rome  and  the  sacking  o: 
the  religious  houses  which  was  still  in  progress,  I  make  nc 
mention  here. 

But  now  they  called  for  mine,  and  I  began  it  at  the  begin 
ning,  and  it  was  strange  to  see  their  faces  as  they  listened 
All  night  long,  till  the  thrushes  sang  down  the  nightingales 
and  the  dawn  shone  in  the  east,  I  sat  at  Lily's  side  telling  then 
my  story,  and  then  it  was  not  finished.  So  we  slept  in  th< 
chambers  that  had  been  made  ready  for  us,  and  on  the  morrov 
I  took  it  up  again,  showing  them  the  sword  that  had  belongec. 
to  Bernal  Diaz,  the  great  necklace  of  emeralds  which  Guatemoc 
had  given  to  me,  and  certain  scars  and  wounds  in  witness  of 
its  truth.  Never  did  I  see  folk  so  much  amazed,  and  when  I 
came  to  speak  of  the  last  sacrifice  of  the  women  of  the  Otomie, 
and  of  the  horrid  end  of  de  Garcia  who  died  fighting  with  hi* 
own  shadow,  or  rather  with  the  shadows  of  his  own  wickedness, 
they  cried  aloud  with  fear,  as  they  wept  when  I  told  of  the  deaths 
of  Isabella  de  Siguenza  and  of  Guatemoc,  and  of  the  loss  cf 
my  sons. 

But  I  did  not  tell  all  the  story  to  this  company,  for  some 
of  it  was  for  Lily's  ear  alone,  and  to  her  I  spoke  of  my  deal- 
ings with  Otomie  as  a  man  might  speak  with  a  man,  for  I  felt 
that  if  I  kept  anything  back  now  thei  e  would  never  be  com  - 
plete  faith  between  us.  Therefore  I  set  out  all  my  doubts 
and  troublings,  nor  did  I  hide  that  I  had  learned  to  love 
Otomie,  and  that  her  beauty  and  sweetness  had  drawn  me 
from  the  first  moment  when  I  saw  her  in  the  court  of  Monte- 
zurna,  or  that  which  had  passed  between  us  on  the  stone  of 
sacrifice. 


AMEN  323 

When  I  had  done  Lily  thanked  me  for  my  honesty  and 
caid  it  seemed  that  in  such  matters  men  differed  from  women, 
seeing  that  she  had  never  felt  the  need  to  be  delivered  from 
the  temptation  of  strange  loves.  Still  we  were  as  God  and 
Nature  had  made  us,  and  therefore  had  little  right  to  reproach 
each  other,  or  even  to  set  that  down  as  virtue  which  was  but 
lack  of  leaning.  Moreover,  this  Otomie,  her  sin  of  heathenism 
notwithstanding,  had  been  a  great-hearted  woman  and  one  who 
might  well  dazzle  the  wandering  eyes  of  man,  daring  more  for 
her  love's  sake  than  ever  she,  Lily,  could  have  dared ;  and  to 
end  with,  it  was  clear  that  at  last  I  must  choose  between  wedding 
her  and  a  speedy  death,  and  having  sworn  so  great  an  oath  to 
her  I  should  have  been  perjured  indeed  if  I  had  left  her  when 
my  dangers  were  gone  by.  Therefore  she,  Lily,  was  minded 
to  let  all  this  matter  rest,  nor  should  she  be  jealous  if  I  still 
thought  of  this  dead  wife  of  mine  with  tenderness. 

Thus  she  spoke  most  sweetly,  looking  at  me  the  while 
v/ith  her  clear  and  earnest  eyes,  that  I  ever  fancied  must  be 
such  as  adorn  the  shining  faces  of  angels.  Ay,  and  those  same 
eyes  of  hers  were  filled  with  tears  when  I  told  her '  my  bitter 
grief  over  the  death  of  my  firstborn  and  of  my  other  bereave- 
ments. For  it  was  not  till  some  years  afterwards,  when  she 
had  abandoned  further  hope  of  children,  that  Lily  grew  jealous 
of  those  dead  sons  of  mine  and  of  my  ever  present  love  for 
them. 

Now  the  tidings  of  my  return  and  of  my  strange  adven- 
tures among  the  nations  of  the  Indies  were  noised  abroad  far 
and  wide,  and  people  came  from  miles  round,  ay,  even  from 
Norwich  and  Yarmouth,  to  see  me  and  I  was  pressed  to  tell 
my  tale  till  I  grew  weary  of  it.  Also  a  service  of  thanksgiving 
for  my  safe  deliverance  from  many  dangers  by  land  and  sea 
was  held  in  the  church  of  St.  Mary's  here  in  Ditchingham, 
which  service  was  no  longer  celebrated  after  the  rites  of  the 
Romish  faith,  for  while  I  had  sojourned  afar,  the  saints  were 
fallen  like  the  Aztec  gods  ;  the  yoke  of  Rome  had  been  broken 
from  off  the  neck  of  England,  and  though  all  do  not  think 
with  me,  I  for  one  rejoiced  at  it  heartily  who  had  seen  enough 
of  priestcraft  and  its  cruelties. 

When  that  ceremony  was  over  and  all  people  had  gone  to 
their  homes,  I  came  back  again  to  the  empty  church  from  the 
Hall,  where  I  abode  a  while  as  the  guest  of  my  sister  and  her 
husband,  till  Lily  and  I  were  wed. 

And  there  in  the  quiet  light  of  the  June  evening  I  knelt) 


324  MONTEZUMA'S  DAUGHTER 

in  the  chancel  upon  the  rushes  that  strewed  the  grave  of  m} 
father  and  my  mother,  and  sent  my  spirit  up  towards  them  ir 
the  place  of  their  eternal  rest,  and  to  the  God  who  guards  them 
A  great  calm  came  upon  me  as  I  knelt  thus,  and  I  felt  ho^ 
mad  had  been  that  oath  of  mine  that  as  a  lad  I  had  sworn  tc 
be  avenged  upon  de  Garcia,  and  I  saw  how  as  a  tree  from  i 
seed,  all  my  sorrows  had  grown  from  it.  But  even  then  ] 
could  not  do  other  than  hate  de  Garcia,  no,  nor  can  I  to  thi^ 
hour,  and  after  all  it  wras  natural  that  I  should  desire  venge 
ance  on  the  murderer  of  my  mother  though  the  wreaking  of  i 
had  best  been  left  in  another  Hand. 

Without  the  little  chancel  door  I  met  Lily,  who  was  linger 
ing  there  knowing  me  to  be  within,  and  we  spoke  together. 

'  Lily,'  I  said,  '  I  would  ask  you  something.  After  all  tha 
has  been,  will  you  still  take  me  for  your  husband,  unworthy 
as  I  am  ?  ' 

'I   promised  so  to  do  many  a    year    ago,  Thomas,'  sh< 
answered,  speaking  very  low,  and  blushing  like  the  wild  rosn 
that  bloomed    upon  a  grave  beside  her,  '  and  I  have  neve  • 
changed  my  mind.     Indeed  for  many  years  I  have    looker: 
upon  you  as  my  husband,  though  I  thought  you  dead.' 

*  Perhaps  it  is  more  than  I  deserve,'  I  said,  '  but  if  it  i^ 
to  be,  say  when  it  shall  be,  for  youth  has  left  us  and  we  hav  \ 
little  time  to  lose.' 

'  When  you  will,  Thomas,'  she  answered,  placing  her  hand 
in  mine. 

Within  a  week  from  that  evening  we  were  wed. 

And  now  my  tale  is  done.  God  who  gave  me  so  sad  an  j 
troublous  a  youth  and  early  manhood,  has  blessed  me  bey  on  j 
measure  in  my  middle  age  and  eld.  All  these  events  of  whic'i 
I  have  written  at  such  length  were  done  with  many  a  day  ago 
the  hornbeam  sapling  that  I  set  beneath  these  windows  in  the 
year  when  we  were  married  is  now  a  goodly  tree  of  shade  an: 
still  I  live  to  look  on  it.  Here  in  the  happy  valley  of  the 
Waveney,  save  for  my  bitter  memories  and  that  longing  fcr 
the  dead  which  no  time  can  so  much  as  dull,  year  after  year 
has  rolled  over  my  silvering  hairs  in  perfect  health  and  peace 
and  rest,  and  year  by  year  have  I  rejoiced  more  deeply  in  the 
true  love  of  a  wife  such  as  few  have  known.  For  it  would 
seem  as  though  the  heart-ache  and  despair  of  youth  had  bi.t 
sweetened  that  most  noble  nature  till  it  grew  well  nigh  divine. 
But  one  sorrow  came  to  us,  the  death  of  our  infant  child — 
for  it  was  fated  that  I  should  die  childless — and  in  thuJ 


4  When  you  will,  Thomas/  she  answered,  placing  her  hand  in  mine. 


AMEN  325 

sorrow,  as  I  have  told,  Lily  shewed  that  she  was  still  a  woman. 
For  the  rest  no  shadow  lay  between  us.  Hand  in  hand  we 
passed  down  the  hill  of  life,  till  at  length  in  the  fulness  of  her 
days  my  wife  was  taken  from  me.  One  Christmas  night  she 
lay  down  to  sleep  at  my  side,  in  the  morning  she  was  dead. 
I  grieved  indeed  and  bitterly,  but  the  sorrow  was  not  as  the 
sorrows  of  my  youth  had  been,  since  age  and  use  dull  the 
edge  of  mortal  griefs  and  I  knew  and  know  that  we  are  no 
long  space  apart.  Very  soon  I  shall  join  Lily  where  she  is,  and 
I  do  not  fear  that  journey.  For  the  dread  of  death  has  left 
me  at  length,  as  it  departs  from  all  who  live  long  enough  and 
strive  to  repent  them  of  their  sins,  and  I  am  well  content  to 
leave  my  safety  at  the  Gates  and  my  heavenly  comfort  in  the 
Almighty  Hand  that  saved  me  from  the  stone  of  sacrifice 
and  has  guided  me  through  so  many  perils  upon  this  troubled 
earth. 

And  now  to  God  my  Father,  ^Yho  holds  me,  Thomas 
Wingfield,  and  all  I  have  loved  and  love  in  His  holy  keeping, 
be  thanks  and  glory  and  praise  !  Amen. 


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I  Continued. 


8         LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL    WORKS. 


Sport  and 


THE  BADMINTON 

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io       LONGMANS  &  CO. 'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL    WORKS. 


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i4       LONGMANS  &  CO.' S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL 

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LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL   WORKS.        15 


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16       LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL   WORKS. 


Poetry  and  the  Drama— continued. 


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Meade.— Works  by  L.  T.  MEADE. 
DEB  AND  THE  DUCHESS.      Illustrated. 

Crown  8vo.,  3^.  6d. 
THE  BERESFORD  PRIZE.     Illustrated. 

Cr.  8vo.,  5-y. 
DADDY'S    BOY.      Illustrated.      Crown 

8vo.,  y.  6d.     ' 

Molesworth.— Works  by  Mrs.  MOLES- 
WORTH.  | 
SILVERTHORNS.  Illustrated.  Cr.  8vo.,  5^. 
THE  PALACE  IN  THE  GARDEN.    Illus- 
trated.    Crown  8vo.,  5*. 
THE  THIRD  Miss  ST.  QUENTIN.    Cr. 

8vo.,  6s. 

NEIGHBOURS.   Illustrated.   Cr.  8vo.,  6s. 
THE  STORY  OF  A  SPRING  MORNING,  &c. 
Illustrated.     Crown  8vo.,  y. 


Reader.  —  VOICES  FROM  FLOWER- 
LAND  :  a  Birthday  Book  and  Language 
of  Flowers.  By  EMILY  E.  READER. 
Illustrated  by  ADA  BROOKE.  Royal 
.i6mo.,  cloth,  2s.  6d.  ;  vegetable  vellum, 
y.  6d. 


Stevenson. — Works  by  ROBERT  Louis 
STEVENSON. 

A  CHILD'S  GARDEN  OF  VERSES.  Small 
fcp.  8vo.,  5-r. 

A  CHILD'S  GARLAND  OF  SONGS, 
Gathered  from  '  A  Child's  Garden  of 
Verses '.  Set  to  Music  by  C.  VILLIERS 
STANFORD,  Mus.  Doc.  410.,  2s. 
sewed  ;  y.  6d. ,  cloth  gilt. 


The  Silver  Library. 


CROWN  8vo.     35.  6d. 

Baker's  (Sir  S.  W.)  Eight  Years  in 
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Baker's  (Sir  S.  W.)  Rifle  and  Hound  in 
Ceylon.  With  6  Illustrations.  y.  6d. 

Baring-Gould's  (Rev.  S.)  Curious  Myths 
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Baring-Gould's  (Rev.  S.)  Origin  and 
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Brassey's  (Lady)  A  Voyage  in  the «  Sun- 
beam '.  With  66  Illustrations.  35.  6d. 

Clodd's  (E.)  Story  of  Creation  :  a  Plain 
Account  of  Evolution.  With  77  Illus- 
trations. 3-r.  6d. 

Conybeare  (Rev.  W.  J.)  and  Howson's 
(Very  Rev.  J.  S.)  Life  and  Epistles  of 
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Dougall's  (L.)  Beggars  All;  a  Novel. 
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Doyle's  (A.  Conan)  Micah  Clarke  :  a  Tale 
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Doyle's  (A.  Conan)  The  Captain  of  the 
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Froude's  (J.  A.)  Short  Studies  on  Great 
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Froude's  (J.  A.)  Caesar :  a  Sketch,    y.  6d. 

Froude's    (J.    A.)   Thomas    Carlyle:    a 
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1795-1835.     2  vols.     7-y. 
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Froude's  ( J.  A.)  The  Two  Chiefs  of  Dun- 
boy.  35.  6d. 

Froude's  (J.  A.)  The  History  of  England, 
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Gleig's  (Rev.  G.  R.)  Life  of  the  Duke  of 

Wellington.     With  Portrait,     y.  6d. 
Haggard's  (H.   R.)   She:   A  History  of 

Adventure.     32  Illustrations,     y.  6d. 
Haggard's  (H.  R.)    Allan   Quatermain. 

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V.C.  :   a  Tale  of  Country  Life.      y. 

6d. 
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Full-page  Illustrations.     3J.  6d. 
Haggard's    (H.     R.)    Erie     Brighteyos. 

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Haggard's  (H.  R.)  Beatrice.     3*.  6d. 
Harte's  (Bret)  In  the  Carqulnez  Woods, 

and  other  Stories,     y.  6d. 
Helmholtz's    (Professor)    Popular   Lec- 
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68  Woodcuts.     2  vols.     y.  6d.  each. 
Hewitt's    (W.)    Visits    to    Remarkable 

Places.     80  Illustrations.     y.  6d. 
Jefferies'  (R.)  The  Story  of  My  Heart: 

My  Autobiography.      With   Portrait. 

35.  6d. 
Jefferies'  (R.)  Field  and  Hedgerow.  With 

Portrait.     3^.  6d. 
Jefferies'     (R.)    Red    Deer.      With    17 

Illustrations,     y.  6d. 
Jefferies'  (R.)  Wood   Magic:    a  Fable. 

y.  6d. 
Knight's    (E.   F.)    The    Cruise    of    the 

'  Alerte' :  the  Narrative  of  a  Search  for 

Treasure    on   the    Desert     Island    of 

Trinidad.       With   2    Maps    and    23 

Illustrations.     3^.  6d. 


22       LO\'GMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL    WORK, 


, 


The  Silver  Library — continued. 


Lang's  (A.)  Custom  and  Myth :  Studies 

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B.C.    1887,     A    Ramble     in     British 

Columbia.  With  Maps  and  75  Illustra- 
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ing,   y.  6d. 
Marshman's  (J.  C.)  Memoirs  of  Sir  Henry 

Havelock.    y.  6d. 
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Max  Mailer's  (F.)  Introduction  to  the 

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Meri  vale's  (Dean)  History  of  the  Romans 

under  the  Empire.  8  vols.     y.  6d.  ea. 
Mill's  (J.  S.)  Political  Economy,    y.  6d. 
Mill's  (J.  S.)  System  of  Logic.    y.  6d. 
Milner's  (Geo.)  Country  Pleasures :  the 

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Sua.     y.  6d. 
Newman's        (Cardinal)        Historical 

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Newman's  (Cardinal)  Callista :  a  Tale 

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Fourth  Century.    y.  6d. 
Newman's      (Cardinal)      Verses      on 

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University.     3^.  6d. 
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Newman's  (Cardinal)   Discussions  ant 

Arguments,     y.  6d. 
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Assent,     y.  6d. 
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Newman's     (Cardinal)     Sermons     01 

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Newman's   (Cardinal)   The  Via   Medi; 

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Phillipps-Wolley's  (C.)  Snap :  a  Legen<  i 

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Ours.    y.  6d. 
Proctor's   (R.  A.)  Rough   Ways    mad) 

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Proctor's    (R.    A.)    Pleasant  Ways  in 

Science.    y.  6d. 
Proctor's  (R.  A.)  Myths    and    Marvel; 

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Stanley's  (Bishop)  Familiar  History  of 

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Stevenson  (Robert  Louis)  and  Osbourne's 

(Lloyd)  The  Wrong  Box.    3*.  6d. 
Wey man's  (Stanley  J.)  The  House  of 

the  Wolf :  a  Romance.     3*.  6d. 
Wood's  (Rev.  J.  G.)  Petland  Revisited . 

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Wood's  (Rev.  J.  G.)  Strange  Dwelling!,. 

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V/ood's  (Rev.  J.  G.)  Out  of  Doors,     n 

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Cookery,  Domestic  Management,  &c. 

MENTOF  THEIR  HEALTH  DURING  TH  5 

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ij.  6d. 

THE  MATERNAL  MANAGEMENT  OF 
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Acton.— MODERN  COOKERY.  By  ELIZA 
ACTON.  With  150  Woodcuts.  Fcp. 
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Bull.— Works  by  THOMAS  BULL,  M.D. 
HINTS  TO  MOTHERS  ON  THE  MANAGE- 


LONGMANS  &  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL    WORKS. 


Cookery,  Domestic  Management,  &c. — continued. 

De  Sails.— Works  by  Mrs.  DE  SALIS.      j  De  Sails.— Works  by  Mrs,  DE  SALIS— 
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Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  6d. 
DOGS  :  a  Manual  for  Amateurs. 

8vo.,  us.  6d. 
DRESSED  GAME  AND  POULTRY  X  LA 


Fcp. 


MODE.     Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  6d. 


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DRINKS  X  LA  MODE.    Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  6d. 

ENTREES  X  LA  MODE.  Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  6d. 

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TEMPTING  DISHES  FOR  SMALL  IN- 
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continued. 

FLORAL  DECORATIONS.      Suggestions 

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NEW-LAID  EGGS  :  Hints  for  Amateur 

Poultry  Rearers.     Fcp.  8vo.,  is.  6d. 
WRINKLES  AND  NOTIONS  FOR  EVERY 
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Harrison. — COOKERY  FOR  BUSY  LIVES 
AND  SMALL  INCOMES.  By  MARY  HAR- 
RISON. Cr.  8vo.,  is. 

Lear.— MAIGRE  COOKERY.  By  H.  L. 
SIDNEY  LEAR.  i6mo.,  a.r. 

Poole. — COOKERY  FOR  THE  DIABETIC. 
By  W.  H.  and  Mrs.  POOLE.  With 
Preface  by  Dr.  PAVY.  Fcp.  8vo. ,  zs.  6d. 

Walker. — A  HANDBOOK  FOR  MOTHERS: 
being  Simple  Hints  to  Women  on  the 
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with  Plain  Directions  as  to  the  Care  of 
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Armstrong. — ESSAYS  AND  SKETCHES. 
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Bagehot. — LITERARY    STUDIES.      By 
WALTER  BAGEHOT.    2  vols.    8vo.,  28*. 
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BARING-GOULD.     Crown  8vo. ,  y.  6d. 
Boyd  ('A.  K.  H.  B.').— Works    by 
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AUTUMN  HOLIDAYS  OF  A   COUNTRY 

PARSON.     Crown  8vo.,  y.  6d. 
COMMONPLACE  PHILOSOPHER.    Crown 

8vo. ,  y  6d. 
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Op.  i.  EREWHON.    Cr.  8vo.,  5^. 

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is.  6d. 
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Illustrated.      Post  410.,    IDJ.   6d. 

Op.  7.  SELECTIONS  FROM  OPS.  1-6. 
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Op.  8.  LUCK,  OR  CUNNING,  AS  THE 
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Op.  9.  Ex  VOTO.  An  Account  of  the 
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HOLBEIN'S  '  LA  DANSE  '.  A  Note  on 
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24       LONGMANS  &>  CO.'S  STANDARD  AND  GENERAL    WORKS. 


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Halliwell-Pliillipps.— A  CALENDAR 
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Hullah.— Works  by  JOHN  HULLAH, 
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COURSE  OF  LECTURES  ON  THE  HIS- 
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COURSE  OF  LECTURES  ON  THE  TRANSI- 
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Jefferies.— Works  by  RICHARD   JEF- 
FERIES. 
FIELD  AND  HEDGEROW  :  last  Essays. 

With  Portrait.     Crown  8vo.,  3^.  6d. 
THE  STORY  OF  MY  HEART  :  my  Auto- 
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RED  DEER.  With  17  Illustrations  by 
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THE  TOILERS  OF  THE  FIELD.     With 
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Johnson.— THE  PATENTEE'S  MANUAL: 
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BR ANDER  MATTHEWS.    Crown  8vo. ,  55. 

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MtJLLER. 

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trated by  the  Religions  of  India. 
Crown  8vo.,  js.  6d.  [continued. 

50,000/11/93. 


Max    Miiller.— Works    by    F.    MAX 

MULLER. — continued. 

INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  SCIENCE  OF 
RELIGION  :  Four  Lectures  delivered  at 
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NATURAL  RELIGION.  The  Gifford 
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PHYSICAL  RELIGION.  The  Gifford 
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Lady  WALLACE.    2  vols.   Cr.  8vo. ,  IQJ. 
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8vo.,  ?s.  6d. 

Froctor.— Works     by     RICHARD     A. 

PROCTOR. 

STRENGTH  AND  HAPPINESS.  With  9 
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STRENGTH:  How  to  get  Strong  and 
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Richardson.— NATIONAL  HEALTH. 
A  Review  of  the  Works  of  Sir  Edwin 
Chadwick,  K.C.B.  By  Sir  B.  W. 
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Roget.  —  A  HISTORY  OF  THE  '  OLD 
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2  vols.  Royal  8vo.,  42^. 

Rossetti.—  A  SHADOW  OF  DANTE  :  be- 
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his  World,  and  his  Pilgrimage.  By 
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South  ey.  —  CORRESPONDENCE  WITK 
CAROLINE  BOWLES.  By  ROBERT 
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8vo.,  14^. 

Wallaschek. — PRIMITIVE  Music  :  an 
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«    o    O    ft 


YC155651 


